Chapter 3

When Melanie saw Sebastian, she pointed out softly, "Ms. Moore must have really wanted to see you, enough to bring herself here." Sebastian did not look pleased by this. Instead, his frown deepened. "Were you following me, Vivienne?" In the past, Vivienne would have launched into frantic denial and explanation. But now, she felt only an indescribable rush of annoyance. Melanie had been pulling shenanigans and driving a wedge between Vivienne and Sebastian since she returned from abroad, and Vivienne had had enough. Losing a life was all it took for her to finally accept reality, not that it was a fair bargain at all. Vivienne suddenly said, "Sebastian, let's get a divorce." Sebastian froze. "What did you just say?" Vivienne's eyes locked onto his as she ground out, "Let's get a divorce." A dark look passed over Sebastian's face once more, and he sneered. "What, none of your other little tricks worked, so you've resorted to asking for a divorce? I don't have time for your nonsense and dramatics, Vivienne." Beside him, Melanie shot Vivienne a contemptuous look. She covered her mouth, chuckling as she said, "Ms. Moore, that's no way to play hard to get. As women, we shouldn't so casually threaten our husbands with divorce. Surely it'd be better for you to focus on more constructive things than bringing up such topics." Sebastian seemed convinced that Vivienne was throwing a fit. He snapped, "Don't follow me again, Vivienne. You know I hate clingy women." "Sebastian, perhaps Ms. Moore was only trying to get your attention…" Melanie suggested innocently. "You'll know if I'm serious about the divorce or just playing hard to get when the time comes." Vivienne snorted, her gaze flicking from Sebastian to Melanie. "You're in love with each other, so why aren't you more excited about my stepping out of this marriage and making room for your romance?" Sebastian did not believe Vivienne was serious about the divorce at all. As far as he was concerned, she was only threatening him, and it made him loathe her more. His eyes darkened, and he shot her a look so frosty that it should have chilled her to the bone. "Whatever it is you're playing at, Vivienne, it's not going to work. It'll only make me hate you more." Sorrow seized Vivienne as she stared at the man before her, his expression hardened with resolve. How much had she lowered herself in the past and deferred to him to make him—enough for him to think everything she did was to please him or get his attention? Indifference slowly clouded her features. "In that case, you'll just have to wait and see." She'd made up her mind that once the divorce papers were drawn up, she'd throw them in Sebastian's face. … Jason's car was already idling by the hospital entrance when Vivienne made her way to the first floor. Noticing the sullen look on her face, Jason couldn't help but chuckle. "What's with the face? Did someone piss you off?" Vivienne pursed her lips. "I ran into Sebastian and his side piece." Understanding flickered in Jason's eyes. "What, did you guys fight or something?" "He didn't believe me when I said I wanted a divorce." "Aren't you going to tell him you miscarried?" Jason probed. Vivienne's heart twisted at the mention of the baby. She said blandly, "No." She knew Sebastian would not feel bad for her just because she lost their baby. He might even rub salt in her wound and tell her she wasn't good enough to carry his child. Either way, she wasn't masochistic enough to find out. Closing the car door, Jason asked, "So, where are you headed? Your marital home?" The words "marital home" sounded offensive to Vivienne. "No." After some thought, she added, "Drop me off at my old apartment. I'll have my stuff moved out of the villa once I've recuperated." Jason nodded, then said, "Mr. Goodhall Senior's throwing a banquet to celebrate his 80th birthday next month. Mom and Dad want me to visit the old man and attend the banquet." He paused before continuing, "Spencer just got back not too long ago. It's been years since the two of you met, so why don't you come with me to the banquet?" "Spencer's back?" Vivienne's face softened at the mention of Spencer's name. "Alright. I'll go with you." The Moores were neighbors with the Goodhalls when Vivienne was a child. She grew up with Spencer and considered him her childhood friend. After that, the Moores did well enough in their business and moved overseas. Vivienne would never forget how Spencer would stand up for her and protect her the moment anyone so much as picked on her. She'd previously cut off all her friends just to be with Sebastian. Now, it was time to take back everything she'd given up for him. … A month passed by in the blink of an eye. Jason had sought specialists to tend to Vivienne's post-miscarriage recovery, making sure the incident wouldn't affect her body in the long run. For the whole month, Sebastian did not come home at all. He also did not call or text Vivienne. She stared at their conversation thread on her phone—her unanswered texts reminding her what a pathetic, hilarious piece of work she had been. Their conversation was full of words, but it was also entirely one-sided. Sebastian never replied. She wagered he had never even read them. She was starting to realize there was nothing about their marriage worth pining over. Just then, Jason called her. "Vivienne, are you ready? Mr. Goodhall Senior's birthday banquet is about to start." Vivienne said yes and hurried downstairs. They didn't hit traffic on their way to the banquet. The Goodhall family was an old, scholarly family based in Zerbania. They had produced many talents who had contributed to various industries across the world. In his younger days, Macon Goodhall was also a formidable force, well accomplished and well respected by society. Many wanted to curry favor with the Goodhalls, but Macon had principles. More than anything, he hated pulling strings for others, and it was why the Goodhalls were so untouchable, if not revered, in Zerbania. It was an honor to be invited to attend Macon's birthday banquet. After handing in their invitation, Vivienne and Jason entered the banquet hall. At that moment, Jason's phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and said to Vivienne, "Stay here for a bit, Vivienne. I'll take this call outside." Vivienne nodded. Not long after Jason left, a surprised voice rang out behind her. "Gosh, is that you, Vivienne? It's bad enough you followed us to the hospital last time, but how could you follow us here to such an important event?" Vivienne turned to see Melanie walking arm-in-arm with a gray-haired old woman. The old woman was none other than Sebastian's grandmother, Regina Baxter. Regina's eyes were mean and carping, and her gaze darkened when she beheld Vivienne's extremely expensive dress. Rage flickered across her wizened face. "How dare you, Vivienne? Sebastian works himself to the bone at the company, yet here you are, squandering his hard-earned money! Useless wench!" Regina angrily pointed at Vivienne. "I order you to take that dress off right now and give it to Melanie!" Regina was nothing short of cruel in her old age, and she had quite the discerning eye. She could tell Vivienne's dress was expensive and cost at least six figures. The money was not much for a prestigious family like the Holts, but for someone like Vivienne, it was practically a fortune worthy of kings. For Vivienne to don such an expensive dress was a waste of good money. Vivienne's face was cold and hard as she took in Regina's furious countenance. Regina had picked on her and ripped into her throughout the three years of her marriage to Sebastian. That wasn't even the worst part. When Vivienne first married Sebastian, Regina made it a point to force her to wait on her hand and foot at Holt Manor every day. She made Vivienne do the laundry, slave away in the kitchen, handle the chores, and even barred her from eating at the family dining table—all because she was an outsider. Every time the Holts threw a family banquet, Vivienne found herself working to the bone. She was forced to cover menial tasks like pouring drinks and bringing out food trays. Not even the maids were half as tired as she was. But no matter how much she lowered herself or tried to please Regina, the old woman never went easy on her or took a liking to her. Regina had been abusive, both physically and verbally. Vivienne couldn't talk back or stand up for herself. If she did, she would be deemed rude and spoiled—a young lady who didn't know her place. Recalling those days was no different from reliving an absurd nightmare. The corner of Vivienne's lips curled into a cold, cutting smirk. She leveled a frosty look at Regina, who looked as scathing and imperious as ever, and drawled, "Why should I?"