Chapter 124
At the sound, Jocelyn blinked back to awareness. A broken sob escaped her as she stumbled forward, arms outstretched. The stench of sweat and garbage hit Linda like a wall.
Instinct made her recoil, and Jocelyn crashed to the pavement with a cry that mirrored Linda’s own gasp of horror.
The past few days had felt like years for Jocelyn, every moment filled with terror. Only when she saw Linda did she finally break down and sob her heart out—she could finally let it all out.
After hearing Jocelyn’s story, Linda immediately called the police. But the cops decided Jocelyn had just gone abroad, got scammed out of all her money, and couldn’t handle the truth—so she made up some wild story about being kidnapped and tortured.
Jocelyn completely lost it, screaming at the top of her lungs, “How can you not believe me? How dare you! I’m telling the truth! I wasn’t scammed! My money’s gone! My money’s gone!”
Seeing the state she was in, the police suggested she be sent to a psychiatric hospital for treatment.
“Sienna, are you two heading home? I’m going that way—want me to give you a ride!” After the symposium, Wayne stepped forward.
Vivian studied him. He stood there tall, poised, and effortlessly elegant. She remembered he was Nora’s older brother, the head of the Sinclair family, and the CEO of Sinclair Corporation.
“No need, Wayne. We drove ourselves,” Sienna replied, smiling.
“Understood,” Wayne acknowledged with a slight nod.
His expression remained impassive as he watched their retreating figures—no trace of frustration visible. Rejection was simply part of the process; he’d never expected unanimous acceptance of his proposal.
“Mr. Sinclair, are we still going to the Preston family’s place?” his assistant asked.
What Sienna had said still lingered, his expression darkening as he cracked his knuckles. “Yeah, we’re going. I’m gonna break Ethan’s leg. Let’s go!”
Once Vivian got in the car, Lana leaned in close to Sienna and whispered, “Miss Enna, Miss Winifred has made it home safely.”
“Alright. Tell Reno to dig up everything that’s happened to her over the past ten years,” Sienna ordered.
“Yes, Miss Sienna,” Lana nodded.
On the drive home, Sienna’s questions came like a prosecutor’s cross-examination. Vivian’s palms grew clammy under the onslaught. Since when had her sister become this terrifying? Each syllable was a scalpel—clinical, deliberate—while that faint, unreadable smile made the whole interrogation feel like a game she was already losing.
In that moment, Vivian felt like she was standing before a titan of industry—someone who operated on a level so far above her that even sharing the same oxygen seemed like an act of audacity.
Her very presence felt like an intrusion, a mistake waiting to be corrected.
Swallowing nervously, Vivian shared her thoughts and opinions. Sienna frowned a little, seemingly not too pleased, and Vivian instantly felt like a student who’d just flunked a test, scrambling to explain herself.
Sienna’s lips curled into a smile as she tousled Vivian’s hair. “Listen, Vivian—when it’s just us chatting, no harm done. But at the company!” Her fingers stilled, her gaze sharpening. “Every word becomes a promise. No vagueness, no creative interpretations. If you propose it, you own it. Crystal clear?”
Vivian’s eyes shone with sincerity as she nodded eagerly. “Got it, Six.”
She’d make sure to do even better next time.
Lana quietly exhaled in relief in the front seat. Sienna’s presence is suffocating—even her own little sister turns into a wide-eyed, helpless chick around her, she mused.
When they finally arrived home, Vivian felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Talking business with Sienna was seriously terrifying.
It was even scarier than dealing with Anya.
She felt like a student who’d crammed three phrases of French only to be thrown into a Parisian debate—she was sweating with embarrassment.
“Vivian, what’s wrong?” Sienna asked when she saw her just standing there, not moving.
Vivian smiled and quickly caught up to her. “It’s nothing, Sis. Let’s go in.”
“No matter what, Sienna always has my best interests at heart,” she thought.
Amber heard the commotion and immediately turned her body away, giving them her back as she sat cross-legged on the couch, arms stubbornly folded across her chest. The little tuft of hair on her forehead wasn’t bouncing with joy—it drooped and wobbled half-heartedly, just like a sulking cat with its fur all puffed up.