Chapter 258: You Will Be My Wife Soon

After a long silence, Vivienne finally spoke. “Before we met, I thought I was the unluckiest person alive. But now, it feels like every hardship I faced was just leading me to you.”

Her words sent a chill down Derek’s spine, as if ice had replaced the blood in his veins. Then, warmth slowly spread from his heart, reaching every corner of his body, awakening his senses. His heart pounded.

“Say that again,” Derek demanded, his gaze locked onto hers.

But Vivienne remained silent. Some feelings were too precious to be spoken twice. To her, the love she carried in silence meant more than any words ever could.

Undeterred, Derek pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. “Please, Vivienne, say it again.” He playfully nuzzled her neck, his breath hot against her skin, sending a shiver through her.

From the front seat, Milo muttered under his breath, “This is unbearable.” After years at Derek’s side, he had never seen him lose his composure like this. If word got out, Derek’s dignified image would be ruined beyond repair.

“Sit up straight, Derek,” Vivienne scolded, trying to rein in his excitement.

But Derek only tightened his hold around her waist. “Not until you say it again.”

Vivienne let out a long sigh. The standoff continued, neither one backing down. Derek buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breath warm against her skin, sending ripples of comfort through her.

“Enough, get up,” Vivienne said, a hint of irritation in her voice as she tried to push him away.

But Derek held firm, refusing to budge. “Not until you say it again.”

“Are you seriously skipping work this afternoon?”

“Being with my wife is far more important, love.”

A faint blush crept onto Vivienne’s cheeks. “I’m not your wife!”

“You will be soon,” Derek teased, his voice light but filled with certainty.

Once Vivienne was safely inside her apartment, Derek tenderly caressed her cheek. “I’ll be here to pick you up tomorrow evening.”

“Okay. Take care driving,” Vivienne said.

“I will.”

Vivienne watched him walk toward the elevator before she shut the door. She slipped into something more comfortable and walked toward the bathroom. The warm water in the tub caressed her skin, melting away the stress of her day.

At that moment, her phone interrupted the peacefulness with a call from Jacob. “Miss Hayes, your invitation is waiting in your private mailbox downstairs.”

“Thank you, I’ll get it soon,” Vivienne responded, and then ended the call.

Leaning against the tub, Vivienne let her thoughts drift as the heat from the water relaxed her.

Later, dressed again, Vivienne descended to the mailbox and fetched a thick, black envelope. Its classical design and red wax seal bearing the auction house’s symbol signaled its importance. The famous auction house, Forreal, differentiated its invitations by black, gold, and silver—each color indicating a level of exclusivity, with black being the highest. Vivienne held a black invitation in her hand, a sign of top-tier status. She opened it, checked the time, and then headed back to her apartment.

In a different part of the city, Natalie finally secured her own invitation and made her way to the Mitchell residence. Upon entering, she immediately felt the subdued, almost melancholic mood of the place. Melissa, coming down the stairs, met Natalie with a reserved smile. “Hello, Natalie.”

“Mrs. Mitchell,” Natalie replied cheerfully, presenting a package. “I brought this delicacy. I hope it pleases you.”