Chapter 297: The Art of Victimhood
Hearing Warren’s voice, Vivienne’s eyes narrowed to slits before her lips curved into a predatory smile. “Playing the gallant hero again, I see.”
She pivoted to face Warren, meeting his contemptuous stare. His eyes pierced through her with the kind of judgment reserved for storybook villains tormenting innocent maidens.
“What drives you to such cruelty, Vivienne?” Warren’s voice cut through the tension like ice. “What grievance could possibly justify this endless torment of Diana and Natalie?”
He had abandoned everything at the first ping of Natalie’s desperate message, only to witness the horrifying livestream his assistant had forwarded during his rush here—Vivienne forcing Diana and Natalie to their knees, compelling them to mimic dogs. Such calculated malevolence could only spring from Vivienne’s mind.
Understanding dawned in Vivienne’s eyes as they flickered between the newly arrived Warren and the tearful Natalie huddled on the floor. Vivienne’s smile took on an arctic quality.
Of course, Natalie had been stalling—she’d been waiting for her champion to arrive. Brushing invisible specks from her clothing with deliberate casualness, Vivienne remarked, “They orchestrated their own downfall. I merely played the hand they dealt.”
“You’re spewing lies,” Diana spat, emboldened by Warren’s presence. “You orchestrated this whole trap, you monster. You forced us to kneel and brought those dogs to terrorize me into barking.”
A dangerous glimmer danced in Vivienne’s eyes. “Miss Mitchell, you’ve not only mastered canine impersonation but also perfected the art of victimhood.”
Before Diana could protest, Vivienne pressed on, “Let’s not forget who initiated this unfortunate chain of events.” The world was quick to condemn her ruthlessness, yet conveniently forgot she hadn’t struck first.
The instigators, having failed in their schemes and fallen prey to her counterattack, had successfully painted her as the villain. Warren’s forehead creased deeply at her words.
“Warren…” Natalie melted into his embrace, her tear-stained face the picture of vulnerability, expertly plucking at his protective instincts. Warren cradled her as if she were spun from glass. “You’re safe now. I’m here.”
As she watched their tender exchange, bitter irony welled up in Vivienne’s chest. Her voice turned glacial. “Miss Chambers, since you’re so fond of invoking our history, let’s conclude our final wager here.”
She turned to address Ennis. “Have the outfit delivered to my apartment.” With that proclamation, she collected her belongings and departed alongside Sienna. The crowd parted like water before them as they strode out together, though Vivienne’s commanding presence rendered Sienna nearly invisible beside her.
Today’s drama had shattered their preconceptions. Curiosity blazed through the gathered spectators. Who was this woman who commanded such deference from three senior executives of the mall? Their intrigue mingled with a tinge of disappointment. They had anticipated witnessing the Chambers and Mitchell daughters perform a pole dance, but the bet’s dissolution had denied them that spectacle.
Sienna exhaled wistfully. “We came so close to destroying that manipulative woman’s reputation completely.”
Vivienne let out a low chuckle. “Even if we had gone through with all the wagers, it wouldn’t have completely crushed the Chambers and Mitchell families. The Mitchells aren’t as weak as they once were. Besides, letting her off the hook now might make us appear… gracious.”