Chapter 3 - Rearview Reflections

Vienna’s POV

"Oh… Uh…" Warren stammered, his gaze shifting to the side. "Dr. Smith’s an old friend of my dad’s. They go way back."

I said nothing, just watched him.

He cleared his throat. "We were just talking about my dad’s condition. His blood pressure’s been acting up again. Smith’s been keeping an eye on it."

"I see," I murmured, eyes still on his face.

There was something off. His answer felt… rehearsed. Like he wasn’t being entirely truthful.

"Why do you ask?" he asked suddenly, raising a brow. "Do you know him?"

"Oh—no," I said quickly, shaking my head. "I just saw his name and picture in the staff directory in the lobby. Thought he looked familiar, that’s all."

Warren nodded slowly. But his eyes lingered on me a second longer than necessary. It didn’t feel right to tell him about how desperate I’d been back then… 

He knew about Daniel’s accident. But I’d never told him about the heart donation. About how I’d pleaded with doctors, practically stalked transplant registries trying to find the recipient of Daniel’s heart.

It was something I wasn’t exactly proud of. Besides, it might hurt Warren’s feelings to know how much I’d once loved another man.

Just then, a door creaked open down the hall. The click of heels echoed against the tile.

Desiree stepped out of a nearby office, wearing her blood-stained party dress, a pharmacy bag in hand. Her blonde hair was twisted into a messy bun, her face still pale.

When her eyes met mine, she gave a slow, theatrical blink. "Well, well. Couldn’t stay away from my misery? You just had to come witness my misfortune in person… again?"

I stiffened.

"Hey, Des," Warren said sharply, stepping between us. "She’s your sister-in-law. She came because she was concerned. Don’t talk to her like that."

She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath, then started down the hall toward the exit.

We drove through the bustling center of Kingsford on our way to Warren’s villa, an awkward silence stretching between us.

"Are you ready for this new chapter, Des?" Warren broke the ice, glimpsing back at Desiree.

"Yeah," she said in a small voice.

"Well, we’re very excited to have you. Isn’t that right, Vienna?" he asked.

"Hmm," I hummed quietly. Did he really expect me to be excited? This had all been decided over my head. Warren hadn’t even given me the time to respond, let alone think it through.

I glanced in the rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of Desiree slumped in the back seat. Her skin looked pale, and she shifted uncomfortably.

"Warren? I—I feel carsick," she said faintly. "Can I move up front?"

Warren pulled over immediately and looked at me. "V, would you mind?"

I hesitated. She’d just had a miscarriage… but still, something inside me bristled. I nodded anyway. 

"Sure," I said, unclipping my seatbelt and sliding out.

"Thanks, Warren," Desiree replied, blatantly ignoring me. She moved slowly, dramatically, into the passenger seat.

I settled into the back. Maybe I was being petty, but the symbolism wasn’t lost on me. Me in the back like a third wheel. Desiree next to Warren like she belonged there.

Through the mirror, I noticed something glinting on her neck. A silver necklace, delicate and unfamiliar. 

Bella’s voice echoed in my mind: "They were at the jewelry store. Laughing. Touching."

"That’s a beautiful necklace, Desiree. Is it new?" I pried carefully, forcing my voice to sound casual.

Desiree turned her head slightly and smiled, a glint in her eyes. "Isn’t it stunning? Graduation gift from Warren." She brushed her hand over his arm. "Best big brother ever."

My breath caught in my throat. He bought her jewelry? Not just some trinket. Something elegant, expensive, meaningful.

There was nothing about their so-called sibling bond that felt normal. The closeness. Her lingering touches. The way she looked at him like he belonged to her. 

And now this necklace, shining around her neck like a smug claim.

Warren—oblivious to my feelings, as usual—chimed in. "You like it, babe? I helped pick it out."

I offered a tight smile. "It’s lovely."

The spacious BMW suddenly felt too small. Claustrophobic. The scent of Desiree’s sickeningly sweet perfume filled every corner. I felt a wave of nausea rise in my throat.

"Not now," I whispered, swallowing back a groan.

I closed my eyes, willing it to pass, beads of sweat breaking across my forehead. I shifted uncomfortably, trying to focus on my breathing.

"Vienna? Are you okay?" Warren asked, glancing at me through the mirror with a frown.

"Just a little carsick," I murmured.

Desiree snorted. "Oh dear, I had no idea car sickness was contagious. Unfortunately, there’s only room for one in the front." She obviously thought I was faking it because she’d taken my place. 

I looked at her reflection and managed to keep my face calm, but inside I was fuming.

She went on. "Your villa is wonderful, brother, but you know… with two women under one roof, it might feel a little… crowded."

Warren laughed heartily. "There’s more than enough space for the three of us, Des."

"I don’t know," she added, her voice turning pitiful. "It’s quite clear that Vienna doesn’t really want me moving in." 

"Hey, don’t worry, little sis. It might take some getting used to, but I’m sure she’ll warm up to you," Warren reassured her, as if I wasn’t right here.

She leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment. "Thanks, brother. You always know what to say to make me feel better."

I sat there, blood boiling. Was he so blind to her blatant manipulations? Couldn’t he see what she was trying to do?

The wrought iron gates of Warren’s mansion finally came into view. Relief washed over me. I needed air. Space. Time to think.

The butler greeted us as we pulled up, and Warren hopped out to help unload. I stayed seated a moment longer, trying to calm myself. 

As I stepped out, the summer sun warmed my face. For a second I could almost forget how suffocating the ride had been.

But then, one of Desiree’s oversized suitcases tipped off the cart and burst open, spilling its contents across the smooth stone driveway.

"Oh no!" she cried, "My Louis Vuitton!"

I immediately bent down to help clean up the mess. But then…

Among her clothes were several oversized shirts and hoodies. I recognized them immediately, because… they were Warren’s.

What the hell?