Chapter 4

Vivian forced down the urge to scream at Logan and turned to go inside the villa. Logan had been busy these past three days, and Vivian hadn't been idle either. Photos of him and Sloane coming and going from the same apartment kept pouring into her phone. With their wedding right around the corner, he had been living with another woman without a shred of guilt, treating it like one last celebration before stepping into the grave of marriage. Logan followed Vivian in, pulled out the first-aid kit, and found disinfectant and cotton swabs. He walked up to her and grabbed her hand with a grim expression as he cleaned the wound. "You love these hands most. Don't hurt yourself just because you're angry with me." Vivian's lips curled into a cold smile. "Aren't you the one who hurt me?" She didn't stay on that topic. Instead, she pulled out a document from the side and held it up in front of him. "Read the terms. If there's no issue, sign it." Logan took the document. The moment he saw what it was, his brows drew together. "A property division agreement?" Vivian nodded. Logan set the papers down and let out a quiet laugh. "We're about to get married. What's the point of signing this?" He treated what she had said that day as nothing but anger. They had been together for seven years. She couldn't possibly leave him. Vivian lifted her eyes to him. She didn't argue, only followed his logic. "Precisely because we're getting married, we should sign it. Premarital assets belong to the individual." She knew perfectly well that Logan wouldn't believe her until she truly left—until he finally understood she hadn't been speaking out of anger. Logan watched her with a cool, sharp look. A faint, mocking smile touched his mouth, and he agreed without hesitation. "Fine." Vivian handed him a pen. Logan glanced at her and swallowed his irritation. Then, he signed his name and passed the document back. "You should be over it now, right?" He reached for her waist. Vivian took the papers and stepped away from the gesture. "I'll have it notarized. When the time comes, I'll contact you. I'll need you to cooperate." Logan's expression darkened instantly. "You don't have even that much trust in me?" Vivian didn't answer. She treated the document like something precious and slipped it into a ziplock bag. Her actions said everything. Logan's expression turned icy. He stared down at her quiet face, a trace of coldness at his lips. "Vivian, don't you think you've become too materialistic, too vain?" Vivian met his deep, dark eyes without caring about the label he had slapped on her. Her voice stayed calm. "This isn't a world where love pays the bills. Power and money are what actually keep you afloat." A man's love changed too easily. Only money and assets never lied. Logan's expression darkened even further. Vivian picked up the ziplock bag and went upstairs. As she passed him, she paused. "I didn't make dinner for you. Figure it out yourself." Then, she went up without looking back. Logan's expression was terrifyingly dark. When he left, he slammed the door so hard the whole place shook. Vivian didn't care. After she locked the document in the safe, she went to see her grandmother. She wanted to talk about going back to Durmont. Not long after her mother's divorce, she died of cancer. Vivian had still been in high school then, and she had depended on her grandmother ever since. Outside the old courtyard, the last light of the setting sun fell in hazy outlines. Her grandmother, Eleanor Briggs, lay back in a woven lounge chair, admiring the glowing evening sky. "Vivian, you're here? Where's Logan?" she asked. Logan used to come with her to visit almost every week. He never missed. Vivian didn't want Eleanor to worry. She lowered her eyes and answered as evenly as she could. "He's busy." Eleanor went quiet for a moment, then rambled on for a while before insisting on seeing Logan. She said she had something to tell him. Vivian couldn't refuse her, so she called Logan. He didn't pick up, and she didn't keep trying. After she steadied herself, she turned back with a smile. "Grandma, he..." Eleanor, who had been speaking to her just moments earlier, now lay with her eyes closed in the fading light. One hand hung naturally over the side of the chair. She looked so peaceful, like she had simply fallen asleep. A sudden panic hit Vivian. The image of her mother's death flashed through her mind. "Grandma..." Her voice trembled. Vivian grabbed Eleanor's hand. It was still warm, but there was no response at all. When the responders arrived, they told her it had been a natural death and urged her to accept it. Her grandmother had been talking to her only moments ago. But now, she was gone. Without thinking, Vivian called Logan again. The call connected, but the voice that came through was Sloane's. "Ms. Hartwell, what is it? Mr. Whitfield and I are heading to a neighboring city..." The instant she heard that voice, Vivian went pale and cut the call. Then, she called her sister in Durmont. When Camille answered, Vivian pressed her voice down and forced out a single sentence. "Camille, Grandma's gone." Camille said, "I'm coming right now." After the call ended, Vivian crouched beside Eleanor and covered her face. She leaned into Eleanor's stiffening body, her shoulders quivering. Vivian had never regretted anything more. For a man like Logan, she'd given up the family who truly loved her.