CHAPTER 4

Vivienne POV

The warmth of the indoor heating hit me the second I pushed the glass doors open, but I felt completely detached from it. The jazz music was still playing, people were still laughing, and the diamonds under the chandeliers still looked blindingly fake to me now.

I looked at the room with completely different eyes. Two years of trying so hard to fit in, and for what? To please a group of people who viewed me as nothing more than a temporary inconvenience? It was hilarious, really.

I grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter's tray. I didn't even like champagne—Ethan always said it didn't suit my "simple background" and usually ordered me plain water—but tonight, I took a long sip. It tasted bitter, sharp, and absolutely liberating.

"Vivienne! Where on earth have you been?"

Victoria Montemayor’s sharp voice cut through my thoughts. She marched over to me, her heavy diamond necklace clicking against her collarbone. Her face was tight with standard mother-in-law disapproval, her eyes instantly landing on the champagne glass in my hand.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," she snapped, keeping her voice low so the nearby guests wouldn't hear. "Elena is about to give a speech about her economic research in Europe, and Ethan needs you standing behind him. You can't just wander off whenever you feel like it. And put that glass down. You look ridiculous holding it."

I looked at her. Really looked at her. This woman had spent two years making me feel like dirt, constantly reminding me that my parents probably abandoned me because I was defective.

"The garden was nice," I said, my voice completely smooth. I didn't lower my gaze. I didn't apologize. I just took another slow sip of the champagne while looking directly into her eyes. "And I think I'll keep the drink, Victoria."

Victoria froze. Her jaw literally dropped a fraction of an inch. I had never called her by her first name before. It was always Mother Montemayor or Ma'am, just like Ethan had instructed.

"What did you just call me?" she hissed, her face flushing red under her expensive makeup.

"Victoria," I repeated, letting a small, polite smile touch my lips. "Is there a problem with your hearing? Maybe it's the acoustics in this room."

Before she could explode, I turned on my heel and walked toward the center of the hall where a small stage had been set up. I could feel her furious glare burning into my back, but it felt incredibly good. The fear was entirely gone.

Ethan was already near the stage, talking to a couple of older men in tailored suits—probably the board members he was so desperate to impress. Elena was standing right next to him, holding a microphone, looking like the absolute queen of the evening.

When Ethan saw me approaching, his eyebrows knit together. He excused himself from the board members and intercepted me before I could get too close to Elena.

"Where did you go?" he demanded under his breath, his hand gripping my wrist. "My mother said you were acting strange. What is wrong with you tonight, Vivienne?"

I looked down at his hand on my wrist. The grip that used to make me feel safe now just felt slimy. "Let go of me, Ethan."

He blinked, surprised by the coldness in my tone, but he didn't let go. "Don't start a scene here. Elena is about to speak. The media is covering this for the society pages. Just stand to my left, look pretty, and keep your mouth shut."

Look pretty and keep your mouth shut. That was my entire description for the last two years.

"I said," I looked up, meeting his eyes with a gaze so icy he actually flinched, "let go of my wrist. Now."

Ethan slowly released his grip, his expression shifting from annoyance to genuine confusion. He wasn't used to this. He was used to the Vivienne who would instantly apologize and look at the floor.

"We are talking about this the moment we get home," he warned, his voice tight.

"Oh, definitely," I murmured, stepping past him.

I didn't stand to his left. Instead, I walked right up to the front row, finding an empty seat next to one of the major stockholders of the Montemayor Group, an elderly woman named Mrs. Henderson who had never once spoken a word to me. I sat down gracefully, crossed my legs, and set my champagne glass on the small table beside her.

Mrs. Henderson glanced at me, surprised, but I just gave her a cool, elegant nod.

Elena raised the microphone to her lips, her voice filling the room. She started talking about her global market analysis, her tone full of that academic arrogance she was famous for. The crowd listened intently, nodding along. Ethan stood near the side of the stage, watching her with open admiration, completely ignoring my existence now that I was seated.

I opened my purse under the table and pulled out my phone. I sent a single text message to the number Arthur Pendelton had called me from.

  Viv: "Who handles the shipping logistics for the Montemayor Group's upcoming European expansion?"

A reply came back within thirty seconds.

  Arthur: "Valderama Shipping Lines handles eighty percent of their cargo distribution. They are currently negotiating a ten-year renewal contract, which is set to be signed this Friday. Without it, their expansion fails."

A slow, vicious thrill ran through my veins. The very merger Ethan and Elena were celebrating tonight depended entirely on a contract with my father's company. They thought they were so close to the finish line. They thought they had everything calculated.

I typed back a short response.

  Viv: "Hold the contract. Tell the board we are reviewing other options."

  Arthur: "Consider it done, Miss Valderama."

I locked my phone and slid it back into my bag just as the crowd burst into applause. Elena had finished her speech. She smiled warmly, bowing her head as Ethan stepped onto the stage to present her with a massive bouquet of red roses.

"To Elena," Ethan spoke into the microphone, his voice echoing through the hall. "Whose brilliance will guide the Montemayor Group into its greatest era yet."

Everyone raised their glasses. I stayed seated, my hands resting calmly on my lap.

Elena walked off the stage, right toward our section. Ethan followed her, his arm naturally finding its way to the small of her back before he caught himself and quickly dropped it, remembering the crowd. But I saw it. Mrs. Henderson saw it too, judging by the slight raise of her eyebrows.

"Vivienne," Elena said, stopping right in front of my chair. She smiled down at me, the kind of smile a person gives to a stray dog they found on the street. "I'm so glad you could make it tonight. I know these kinds of events can be... overwhelming for someone who isn't used to them."

The passive-aggressive insult was so textbook it almost bored me.

I slowly stood up, making sure I utilized every inch of my height. I didn't look flustered. I looked relaxed.

"It's not overwhelming at all, Elena," I said, using her first name without any title. "In fact, I found your speech quite amusing. Especially the part about the European expansion."

Elena’s smile stiffened. Ethan stepped forward, his face darkening. "Vivienne, that's enough. You don't know anything about logistics."

"You're right, Ethan. I don't," I replied, taking a step closer to them, my voice dropping so only the three of us could hear. "But I do know that when a house is built on a rotten foundation, it doesn't take much to make the whole thing collapse."

I picked up my purse from the chair. I looked at Ethan, then at Elena, giving them one last, lingering smile that promised absolute ruin.

Without waiting for their response, I turned around and walked out of the main hall, leaving them standing there in absolute silence.