Chapter 48
Vivienne marveled at Diana's remarkable ability to provoke anger. A few words ignited a firestorm within her. Her eyes flashed, piercing Diana. "You believe I'm clinging to him? Have you forgotten how your brother desperately begged me to rescue the Mitchell family?"
Diana recoiled, seeking shelter beside Natalie, who maintained a gentle facade, though a flicker of contempt crossed her eyes. To Natalie, Diana seemed spineless.
Natalie adopted an understanding tone. "Vivienne, perhaps we could all have dinner together? An opportunity to clear the air and prevent misunderstandings. I'm certain Warren would agree."
Vivienne's gaze remained cold and impatient. "Step aside."
Diana lunged forward, finger pointing accusingly. "You're not leaving!"
"What's going on here?" Warren's calm but authoritative voice cut through the commotion. As he approached, his eyes landed on Vivienne, and his composure momentarily cracked. Surprise flickered in his gaze. He was accustomed to seeing her in her signature black business attire, but tonight, she was a revelation in royal blue. The color enhanced her elegance, while her dark hair and crimson lips added allure. It felt like a declaration of independence.
Natalie noticed the distraction in Warren's eyes, a chill settling in her chest. Her fingers curled into a fist before she composed herself, slipping into his arm with practiced grace. "Warren," she began with a soft smile, "such a coincidence running into Vivienne. I thought we could invite her to join us. You don't mind, do you?" She tightened her hold around his waist, a subtle gesture of possession.
Warren blinked, snapping back to the present. He looked at Natalie with an almost overly easy fondness. "Whatever you decide," he replied indulgently.
Vivienne watched, the irony settling over her like a cold mist. Her lips curled into a sardonic smile. Without a word, she walked away.
"Vivienne!" Diana's sharp voice rose. "We're inviting you to dinner out of kindness. The least you could do is show some gratitude!"
Desperate to have the last word, Diana darted ahead to block Vivienne's path. "You won't get far," she sneered. "Lonsong Restaurant isn't some cheap diner. Without a reservation, they'll toss you out like yesterday's leftovers!"
Vivienne stopped. Her gaze, cold as an arctic wind, locked onto Diana's, freezing her in place. "Move."
Diana froze, feeling an invisible grip tighten around her throat. Before she could reply, Vivienne brushed past her, stepping into the revolving doors without looking back.
From the second-floor window, Derek watched, his expression unreadable. His fingers brushed against a bouquet of roses before he stood. "Milo," he said calmly but firmly, "tell the manager we're closing for the day."
"Yes, sir," Milo replied, already moving to comply.
Downstairs, Warren, Natalie, and Diana reached the entrance, only to be met by a polite but firm waiter. "I'm terribly sorry, ladies and gentlemen, but we're closed for the evening."
Warren's brow furrowed, his tone darkening. "Closed? We have a reservation."
Diana, already seething, pointed accusingly at the restaurant's interior where Vivienne had disappeared. "What kind of nonsense is this? That woman in the blue suit just walked in without a problem! But you're telling us we can't enter? This is blatant favoritism!"