All Chapters of Owned By My Best Friend's Uncle: Chapter 171 - Chapter 180

(Vivian’s POV)I checked the time on my phone, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind my ear before I stepped into the small restaurant. It wasn’t fancy, not even close to the kind of places Kai usually insisted I go to for meetings—but it felt...homey. Warm. Familiar. Something about the handwritten menu and chipped wooden tables made the place oddly comforting.I scanned the room until I spotted her—Lynne. She stood up and smiled, waving me over. “Vivian, right? I’m so glad you made it.”I returned the smile, stepping forward to shake her hand. “Of course. Sorry if I kept you waiting.”“Not at all. I just got here.”We both sat down, and a waitress appeared to take our order. Lynne ordered a simple pasta, and I followed with a sandwich and iced tea.“I’ve heard a lot about your company,” Lynne said as she adjusted her blazer, a soft pink color that matched her gentle expression. “I was drawn to how you support independent creators. That’s exactly the energy I want for my gallery

(Author’s POV)The clock struck midnight. A quiet desperation crept into every corner of Kai’s luxurious penthouse. The city lights outside glittered like false hope, mocking the way his heart pounded in fear. His phone screen lit up with yet another call attempt—Vivian’s number again. But the same automated voice pierced his chest like a dagger.“The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable…”Kai clenched his jaw, throwing the phone onto the marble counter. His hands trembled. He had lost count of how many times he had called her. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. Every single second without her felt like torture. He wasn’t just worried—he was terrified.“Damn it, Vivian… where are you?” he whispered, his voice thick with anguish.The last message she had sent replayed in his mind on a loop: “Heading to meet the client now. Shouldn’t take long. I’ll text you after.”But she never did. And now… her phone was off.Kai had called everyone. Martha, her loyal secretary, had answered

(Vivian's POV)Two months had passed since that horrific night—since I was kidnapped by someone I once considered a friend. Darius. Just thinking about his name sent a chill down my spine. I had trusted him. I had laughed with him. And yet, behind my back, he was planning the most evil, degrading thing anyone could imagine. If Kai hadn’t found me in time, I don’t know where I would be today… or what I would have become.But Kai did find me.He saved me—like he always does.The nightmares still came sometimes, but they weren’t as paralyzing as before. I had Kai. And his arms were the safest place in the world. With his help, my family’s support, and hours of therapy, I started to feel like me again. Stronger. Wiser. Loved.And today… today, I was going to marry him.“Breathe, Vivian,” my maid of honor whispered, laughing softly as she adjusted my veil. “You’re going to pass out before you walk down the aisle.”I took a deep breath, letting my eyes flutter shut for a moment. “I’m not ne

(Kai’s POV)The moment the hotel suite door clicked shut behind us, I turned the lock and faced her. My wife.My wife.The word sounded unreal in my head, too beautiful to be true. But there she was—Vivian Rosendale-Reyes now—standing barefoot on the marble floor, wrapped in white silk and innocence she no longer had. At least, not with me.She looked up at me beneath thick lashes, her cheeks slightly flushed from the champagne, or maybe from knowing what came next.“You're mine now,” I said, voice low, deliberate.Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak.Good. I didn’t want her to.I stepped forward, grabbed her by the waist, and pressed her back against the wall with my body. “Do you have any idea what that means, Vivian?”She gave a soft, shaky breath. “You’re going to tell me, aren’t you?”I smiled—dark, possessive. “No, baby. I’m going to show you.”I kissed her like I hadn’t seen her in years. Hard, hungry. She tasted like wedding cake and trouble. My fingers tangled in her hair a

By the time I arrived at my studio, my mind was already filled with color palettes, floor plans, and furniture catalogs. I ran an interior design company specializing in art museum displays, high-end wedding designs, and new restaurant concepts. Today’s schedule was packed."Focus, Vivian. Be professional. Don’t float around like a newlywed idiot," I reminded myself, rubbing my temples before grabbing my tablet.My assistant, Martha, peeked in. “Your 10 a.m. client is here, Mrs. Reyes.”I still wasn’t used to that. Mrs. Reyes.“Send her in,” I said, smoothing my blazer.A woman in her late thirties walked in—elegant, sharp-featured, and dressed in a sleek beige suit.“Mrs. Reyes, thank you for seeing me,” she said with a polite smile.“Please, call me Vivian,” I replied, shaking her hand. “How can I help you?”She pulled out a folder. “I’m opening a new art café in Seminyak. I saw your work at Liora Art Museum, and I want something similar—clean, modern lines but with warm lighting an