Chapter 33 Vivian's Miscarriage

Vivian was clearly avoiding any mention of Bernard Jacobson. If that was the case, pressing her further was pointless. Everyone had their own secrets. Curtis Huxley peeled a piece of fruit and handed it to Vivian. "Here, eat this." "Huh? For me?" His gesture surprised her. A moment ago, she thought he was peeling it for himself. Who was Curtis Huxley? The spoiled heir of Westmoor, a notorious playboy—the kind of man who'd never shown a woman the slightest courtesy. And now, he was peeling fruit for her? This... "No, no, no, I don't want it," Vivian quickly waved her hand in refusal. "This little lord has never peeled fruit for a woman before. You dare refuse?" Curtis's expression darkened, his tone leaving no room for argument. His look seemed to say: *Whatever I give you, you'd better accept—or face the consequences!* A quiet warmth stirred in Vivian's heart. She accepted the fruit, took a bite, and as she chewed, murmured, "Thanks." In Westmoor, a city where she knew no one, Her real