Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

“Don’t be ridiculous, Vivienne! Lower your chin and come with me right now,” Dominic hissed. His grip on Vivienne’s elbow was so tight that his nails almost pierced through the satin fabric of her dress.

Vivienne did not move. Instead of fear, she stared straight at the dozens of eyes now locked on them.

Lucas chuckled, breaking the tense silence. He swirled his champagne glass with a mocking expression. “Come on, Dominic. Don’t stop your wife from dancing. Let her try. I’m curious... can a pig dance gracefully on stage like a swan?”

Pig.

The word struck Vivienne squarely in the chest. It hurt more than a physical slap. She glanced at Dominic, hoping her husband would punch Lucas or at least throw an insult back at him. But Dominic remained silent. Instead, he looked at Vivienne with a gaze that seemed to confirm Lucas’s words: You are embarrassing, and you deserve to be called that.

“Let go of me, Dominic,” Vivienne whispered, her voice trembling not from weakness, but from fury that had already reached its limit.

With one sharp pull, Vivienne freed her arm from Dominic’s grip. She turned around and strode out of the ballroom toward the backstage corridor where the dancers’ dressing rooms were located.

Inside the empty dressing room, Vivienne rummaged through the clothing racks with ragged breaths. Nothing. Not a single dance costume from Giselle’s agency fit her eighty-kilogram body. Every zipper refused to close when she tried them on.

Vivienne stared at her reflection in the large mirror. Tears of anger streamed down her cheeks. “Just watch... I’ll show all of you.”

She grabbed a large pair of fabric scissors lying on the vanity table. Without hesitation, Vivienne cut the bottom of her maroon dress until it hung far above her knees, leaving her thick thighs fully exposed. She did not stop there. She tore the sleeves and cut the neckline extremely low, creating a daring low-cut design that boldly displayed her full cleavage.

With her hair intentionally left messy and her feet bare, Vivienne walked back toward the ballroom.

The moment she appeared beneath the stage lights, thunderous laughter erupted throughout the ballroom. Her appearance tonight was far from ideal. Her curvy body was fully exposed, completely contrasting the beauty standards of the room.

Dominic immediately stepped toward the edge of the stage, his face flushed red with shock. “Vivienne! Get down! Have you completely lost your mind?!”

Vivienne ignored him. She signaled to the confused music operator in the corner of the room to start the music.

A slow yet firm-tempo tango melody began to play.

Before Vivienne could move her feet, Giselle Moreau stepped closer to Dominic. The slender woman deliberately touched Dominic’s arm, gently stroking it with a fake expression of concern.

“Just let her be, Dominic,” Giselle said loudly enough for her voice to reach the stage. “Maybe your wife truly wants to humiliate you tonight. Don’t dirty your hands dragging her away.”

Seeing Giselle’s fingers resting sweetly on her husband’s arm—the man who had never even touched her skin during their two years of marriage—Vivienne’s blood boiled hot. Jealousy and resentment fueled her adrenaline.

Vivienne closed her eyes, letting her body move along with the rhythm of the music.

Meanwhile, on the darkest VIP balcony, the atmosphere was completely different. The four men who controlled the nation’s highest economic power sat behind the glass railing, observing the stage below.

Tristan Vance, the crown prince, rested his chin on his hand. His usually cold and uninterested eyes were now fixed on the woman below. “Daddy, look at that. Isn’t that curvy woman very interesting?”

Alistair Vance—the Daddy and head of the family clan—remained silent. The lighter in his hand clicked softly as he lit his cigar. His sharp, experienced eyes focused on every curve of Vivienne’s body moving freely below, especially the exposed cleavage that boldly revealed itself each time she spun her body. There was a rare raw allure in her.

“Are all of you blind?” Christian, the second nephew, responded coldly and flatly. “She’s unpleasant to look at. Her movements are a mess.”

Yet Christian’s own eyes could not leave the stage. His mouth criticized her, but his fingers tapped against the table following Vivienne’s rhythm, a lie he failed to hide from his cousin.

Julian, the first nephew, shivered slightly while smirking. “Uncle, look at her movements. The way her curves move like that... somehow it gives me chills. She’s dancing with all her anger.”

On stage, Vivienne poured out every ounce of strength she had left. Her dance was sensual, intense, and filled with wounded emotions. But her exhausted body, unaccustomed to movements that intense, slowly began reaching its limit.

At the final powerful beat of the music, Vivienne’s foot tripped over the edge of her own dress.

Thud!

Her eighty-kilogram body crashed heavily onto the slippery stage floor. She rolled awkwardly near the stairs leading down from the stage.

The hall exploded into even louder laughter than before. Lucas was clutching his stomach from laughing too hard, while Giselle merely smiled in satisfaction, feeling victorious without even dirtying her hands.

Before Vivienne could stand up and endure the pain in her knees, a strong hand grabbed her wrist roughly.

Dominic yanked Vivienne to her feet, not caring that his wife’s torn dress briefly exposed her body. Dominic’s face was extremely close to hers, his eyes blazing with thick hatred.

“Let’s go home! Are you satisfied now after embarrassing me in front of everyone, huh?!” Dominic shouted, his voice booming through the lingering laughter of the guests.

Dominic half-dragged and half-pushed Vivienne out through the ballroom’s emergency exit, leaving behind the noisy banquet that had just branded her as the biggest joke of the year. Yet above them, in the darkness of the VIP balcony, Alistair Vance slowly exhaled cigar smoke, staring at the door where Vivienne disappeared with a dangerously interested gleam in his eyes.