Chapter 7 Kidnapped

"Vivian, dear, stay at the family mansion for a few days and keep this old lady company," Madam Jacobson said to Vivian Donovan. Vivian knew she had already upset Bernard Jacobson and didn't want to humble herself before the Whiteheads for her adoptive parents' sake, so she could only rely on Madam Jacobson. After all, Madam Jacobson didn't seem to harbor any ill will toward her. "I don't understand—why should I keep you company?" "That boy Bernard took advantage of you, so he should take responsibility. Letting you stay at the mansion for a few days gives me a chance to get to know you better." Then, recalling Vivian's concerns, Madam Jacobson added, "The best specialists from abroad have already been brought in to treat your parents. They should recover soon." Vivian was deeply grateful—so much so that she felt she could never repay the kindness. All she could do was remind herself that she had saved Bernard, and now Madam Jacobson had saved her adoptive parents—so they were even. "Thank you, Grandma," she expressed sincerely. For the next three days, Vivian accompanied Madam Jacobson—practicing Tai Chi in the morning, tending flowers in the garden in the late morning, and making pastries or playing chess together in the afternoon. Time flew by when it was well spent. On the fourth morning, after sharing a meal with the old lady, Vivian packed her things, picked up her suitcase, and walked downstairs. She gave Madam Jacobson, who was sitting on the sofa, a slight nod. "Grandma, I'm off. Thank you so much for your hospitality." Madam Jacobson stood up, walked over to her, and smiled warmly. "You're such a cheerful girl. Being with you makes this old lady feel a little younger." In front of Vivian, Madam Jacobson didn't carry even a trace of the matriarch's stern authority—she felt more like a kind grandmother. "Grandma, you must always stay young at heart. I'm leaving now. Bye-bye." "Yes, remember to come visit this old lady when you have time." "Uh… hehe… yes, Grandma," Vivian awkwardly replied. Whether she could ever return to the family mansion wasn't up to her. After leaving the mansion, the driver arranged by Madam Jacobson took her to downtown Westmoor. Passing a pharmacy, she said to the driver, "Stop here. I'll get off." The car pulled over. She stepped out and said to the driver, "Uncle, please thank Grandma for me." "Of course, Ms. Donovan," the driver acknowledged and drove away. With her crossbody bag on her shoulder, Vivian hurried into the pharmacy. The pharmacist immediately approached. "Hello, what medicine would you like to buy?" "Get me a box of the best emergency contraception," Vivian anxiously told the pharmacist. She hadn't had a chance to leave the Jacobson mansion for the past few days, so naturally, she couldn't buy the medicine. Now that she was out, she had to get the pill as soon as possible—otherwise, if she got pregnant, everything would be ruined. The pharmacist handed her a box. "This one is the most effective within 72 hours." Vivian took the medicine, then paused as she turned to pay. "You said what—72 hours?" "Yes, the sooner the better. After three days, it won't work anymore." "Only three days?" "That's right." Vivian's mind went blank. She was stunned. Then she looked down at the package instructions—sure enough, it clearly stated 72-hour emergency contraception. Beyond that, it wouldn't be effective. She had never used this before and naively thought emergency contraception worked within a week. No wonder Madam Jacobson had kept her at the Jacobson mansion for three days. That was the reason. She handed the medicine back to the pharmacist and walked out of the pharmacy with red eyes. Wandering the streets alone, she calmed down after a while and reassured herself—what's there to fear? If she got pregnant, she could just have an abortion later! Bold in the moment, burned later—nothing to be afraid of! Screech— At that moment, a car suddenly slammed on its brakes in front of her. Before Vivian could react, she was shoved into the vehicle. "Hey! Who—who—what are you people? In broad daylight, kidnapping is illegal!" She struggled a bit and warned, "Stop the car! Let me go, or I'll call the police!" "Miss Donovan, it's better you stay calm and don't make trouble for yourself," a familiar voice came from the driver's seat. Vivian craned her neck to look. To her shock, the person behind the wheel was Scott Cross. So Bernard Jacobson had sent someone to kidnap her? Of course—bold in the moment, burned later. No sooner had she left the Jacobson residence than Bernard had her captured. His retaliation was too swift. "Scott, stop the car! Otherwise, I'll call Grandma!" "I suggest you know your place, Miss Donovan." Vivian: "..." Know your place—like knowing you're ready to die? Thinking of her parents still in the Jacobson family's hospital, she dared not struggle pointlessly. Ten minutes later, she was brought to the 38th floor of Nightshade Club, to Bernard's private room. "Boss, I've brought Miss Donovan," Scott delivered Vivian before Bernard. "I'll take my leave now." He turned and left. Vivian tightly gripped her bag strap, looking at Bernard, who sat with a laptop on his lap, working intently. His eyes were fixed on the screen, his long-fingered hands dancing across the keyboard. Cold and commanding, he exuded the natural aura of a man in power—like a god in the clouds, judging humanity. Especially his face—perfectly sculpted lines, striking features, like a flawless masterpiece crafted by God. Breathtakingly beautiful, without a single flaw. Even Vivian, who claimed to be immune to handsome men, couldn't help but steal a few glances. "Done staring?" The man suddenly closed the laptop and placed it on the table, coldly addressing her. "Who—who was staring at you?" Vivian curled her lips. "You're so full of yourself." The man in a black shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, stood up, his sharp gaze locking onto her. "You think because Grandma's backing you, you can act however you want in front of me?" Under the overwhelming pressure, Vivian nervously swallowed. "N-no… absolutely not." "You're scared already? The other day at the mansion, weren't you boldly declaring you'd get pregnant with my child and marry me?" This damn woman dared to challenge him. She had no idea how to survive. "Hehe…" Vivian's face turned slightly pale. She bitterly laughed at herself and instinctively stepped back. "Bernard, don't be angry. That was just a joke, hehe… just a joke." She kept stepping back, but Bernard suddenly grabbed her by the collar. "I, Bernard Jacobson, hate being threatened most of all. Congratulations—you've managed to provoke me." He said "congratulations," but the icy look on Bernard's face made Vivian feel as if he were looking at a corpse. Her heart nearly leapt out of her throat. "Bernard, I was only joking!" Oh my God, this was terrifying. "Whether you were joking or not isn't something you can prove with words alone." "T-then… then… then how can I prove it?" Terrified to the core, Vivian stammered. Bernard raised one of his ink-black eyebrows. "You really want to prove that everything you said at the Jacobson mansion was just a joke?"