All Chapters of Reborn to Seduce the Devil CEO : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

We left the Ritz at 10 PM. Margaret was still on the floor in her urine-stained white gown, Chloe was screaming at the security guards to let her go, the $8 million Heart of the Ocean was back around Mrs. Liu's fat neck, and every guest was live-streaming the whole disaster with captions like BEST BIRTHDAY PARTY EVER and Margaret Lin social suicide. In the car, Julian held my hand the whole way, his thumb stroking my knuckles, not saying anything, just... holding. Like he knew I was shaking under the white silk, not from fear, but from rage. Cold, clean rage that had been building for two lifetimes. At home, I took off the white gown, threw it in the trash — I didn't want to see white again for a month — washed off the makeup, put on Julian's black t-shirt, and sat on the balcony with my laptop, barefoot, hair wet, looking at the dark sea. Julian came out with two mugs of warm milk — he had learned I liked warm milk after midnight now, not noodles — and sat beside me, his wheelchair

The emergency board meeting was called for 9 AM sharp on Tuesday, but I was at Lin Manor at 6 AM, because Grandfather called me at 5 AM crying, "Vivian, your uncle is here, he looks like Wei, but his eyes— his eyes are not Wei's eyes—" I arrived with Julian, who hadn't slept, who insisted on standing beside me even though his legs were shaking from yesterday's chase. In Grandfather's study, sitting on my father's old chair like he owned it, was a man. He was about forty-five, thin, scarred on the left cheek, wearing an old Lin Enterprises jacket from ten years ago that was too tight now. His hair was greyer, his face older, but it was— God, it was Uncle Wei's face. The same mole under the left eye. The same crooked front tooth from when he fell fishing with me. "Vivian," he said, his voice hoarse, trying to smile. "Little Vivian, you grew up. You don't remember Uncle? You used to ride on my shoulders—" I remembered. That fishing trip. He taught me to bait a hook. He said, "If a fi

The interview request came from Forbes Global, not a gossip tabloid, not a business wife's I*******m Live, but Forbes. Subject line: EXCLUSIVE: The Sterlings — How a 28-year-old billionaire who never gives interviews and his 24-year-old wife who exposed $73M fraud built the strongest alliance in shipping. Leo read it out loud and screamed, "FORBES! VIVIAN! FORBES WANTS YOU! THE ONE WITH THE RICH LIST! NOT THE ONE WITH HOROSCOPES!" Grandfather almost cried again. He has been crying a lot lately, but happy crying, doctor says it's good for his heart. "Your father was on Forbes once, 30 years ago, small corner, bottom left. Now you and Julian will be on the cover." Julian's reaction was different. He read the email, frowned, and said, "No." "Why no?" I asked, stealing his coffee, because he makes terrible coffee but I like stealing it. "I don't do interviews," he said, as if that was a law of physics, like gravity. "Last time I did an interview, I was 18, they asked me what my hobby

The invitation came from Grandfather this time, not Margaret. That was why I went. "Vivian, come home for family dinner tonight, just family," Grandfather said on the phone, his voice tired but warm. "Margaret called, she cried, said she wants to apologize properly at home, no reporters, no cameras, just soup. She made your father's favorite fish soup, the one your mother taught her. She said she wants to cook for me one last time before... before she leaves the city. I said yes. I am old, Vivian, I don't want to die with hate in the house. Come, please. Bring Julian if he is free. Let’s eat one last time as family." One last time. Family. Fish soup. My mother's recipe that Margaret stole. My stomach twisted. Margaret never cooks. She has maids, she has allergies to fish, she says the smell makes her sick. And she never apologizes without cameras. I looked at Julian, who was reading a contract with his reading glasses — he looks so handsome in reading glasses, I almost forgot to be

It was 1:47 AM. I know because the clock in Julian's private study — the one room in Seabreeze Villa I was never allowed to enter, the one even Mark needed permission to clean — said 1:47 AM in cold blue light. I wasn't snooping. I swear I wasn't. Goodnovel heroines never snoop, they accidentally snoop. I was looking for a document. Grandfather's final test — Yangtze Deep-Water Port — required government approval, and government approval required Sterling Group's Norwegian deep-water tech certification, which Julian said was in his study, in the safe, file name Nor-Tech-2019-Deep. Julian was asleep. Finally asleep, not pretending, his black hair messy on my pillow, his breathing deep, his hand still holding mine even in sleep, because he does that now, holds my hand like I will disappear if he lets go. I didn't want to wake him. He hadn't slept properly since the fish soup night, since the $73M, since Vincent brought Arthur to his boardroom. So I slipped out of bed barefoot, in his