Chapter 162

The morning sun cast golden rays through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn Sinclair’s penthouse, illuminating the scattered scripts on her coffee table. She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her tousled auburn hair. The weight of last night’s argument with Nathan Blackwood still pressed heavily on her chest.

"You’re letting your pride ruin everything," his words echoed in her mind.

A sharp knock at the door startled her. Before she could respond, Lillian Graves, her ever-efficient assistant, strode in, clutching a tablet. "Evelyn, we have a problem."

Evelyn arched a brow. "What now?"

"Victoria Hayes just leaked details of your upcoming project to The Hollywood Insider," Lillian said, her lips pressed into a thin line. "And she made sure to twist the narrative—making it sound like you’re difficult to work with."

Evelyn’s fingers curled into fists. Of course. Victoria had been waiting for an opportunity to undermine her ever since Nathan had promoted Evelyn over her.

Her phone buzzed—Nathan’s name flashing on the screen. She hesitated before answering.

"Evelyn," his deep voice was calm, but she could hear the tension beneath. "We need to talk."

"About Victoria’s latest stunt?" she snapped.

A pause. Then, quieter, "About us."

Her breath hitched.

Lillian discreetly slipped out of the room, leaving Evelyn alone with the storm brewing inside her.

Nathan continued, "I don’t want this to end like this."

Evelyn swallowed hard. "Then what do you want, Nathan?"

The line went silent for a heartbeat.

"Fight with me," he finally said, his voice rough. "Not against me."

Outside, the city hummed with life, oblivious to the battle raging between them.

Evelyn closed her eyes.

The choice was hers.

Julian's mind raced as he once again caught Evelyn's resentful inner monologue.

Damn it! He's not feeling guilty about Vivienne at all—he's just panicking because he can't get the money to pay off his debts on time!

Finally, everything clicked into place for Julian.

Gabriel hadn't given up. He was still obsessed with Vivienne. When his marriage proposal failed, he resorted to blackmail.

That meant Gabriel had willingly leaked those photos. He might have even made worse threats, terrifying Vivienne so much that she was willing to pay to make it stop—only to realize she had nothing left.

The sheer cruelty of it made Julian's blood boil. If looks could kill, Gabriel would have been dead ten times over by now.

But Gabriel remained oblivious, his eyes vacant, as if lost in his own twisted thoughts.

"What the hell happened?" Isabelle demanded, turning to Claire.

Claire sighed deeply, her worried gaze fixed on Vivienne lying motionless in the hospital bed. "We don't know much either. She didn’t show up for rehearsal, and when we finally reached her mother, we heard there’d been an accident. We rushed here immediately. But when we asked her mother and uncle, they acted clueless—though they were clearly hiding something. I swear, they had something to do with this." Her voice dripped with disdain.

Isabelle exhaled sharply. "She was always so strong. What could have broken her like this?"

At those words, Gabriel finally stirred. His expression twisted with something akin to distress as he stared at Vivienne’s unconscious form.

Damn it, I can’t take this anymore. What’s that look in his eyes? Resentment? Is he seriously blaming Vivienne for being too weak? Is he pissed that her suicide attempt messed up his debt repayment schedule?

Evelyn was seething.

Before she could even think of how to handle the situation, Julian suddenly stepped forward, moving toward Gabriel as if to greet him.

Then—

Julian "tripped," stumbling on perfectly flat ground. Instinctively, he flung out his arms to steady himself—only to shove Gabriel hard in the process.

Gabriel yelped as he was thrown from his chair, his body slamming into the nearby wall with a loud thud. The impact was so violent that everyone in the room flinched.

Grimacing in pain, Gabriel clutched his wrist, which had already begun swelling and turning an angry red.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" Julian gasped, rushing to help—only to grab Gabriel’s injured wrist and squeeze it harder.

Gabriel howled, his face flushing crimson with agony.

The sudden chaos left everyone momentarily frozen. As the shock wore off, Claire and Isabelle Laurent rushed forward to assess the situation.

"You..." Isabelle was so stunned she could barely form words. How could such an absurd accident happen to Gabriel? The coincidence was too ridiculous to believe.

Had there not been a history of goodwill between them, she might have suspected Gabriel had done it on purpose.

Claire, of course, was heartbroken for her son, but the thought of him orchestrating this never crossed her mind. She had been too engrossed in conversation with Isabelle to notice what was happening. Otherwise, with her sharp instincts, she would have seen through Gabriel’s act. For now, she could only chalk it up to terrible luck.

Only Evelyn managed to react, barely suppressing a laugh. Silently, she gave Gabriel a mental high-five.

No matter what kind of mishap it was, as long as it made this brute suffer, she was all for it.

Gabriel, naturally, was enjoying himself. He couldn’t resist delivering a metaphorical blow of justice to Javier—considering it payback for the pain he had caused. Having just overheard Evelyn’s thoughts, he found the whole situation even more amusing.

In the end, Gabriel had no choice but to summon a doctor to tend to Javier’s injuries—a gesture of goodwill.

After the flurry of activity, Adriana and Bartholomeo entered, attempting to usher everyone out. They were likely worried that if Vivienne woke up, certain secrets might be exposed. After all, they had reputations to uphold.

Just then, Vivienne stirred.

Her eyes fluttered open, dazed, and Isabelle was the first to notice. She quickly stepped forward. "Vivienne? Are you feeling better?"

Claire, her concern evident, moved closer as well.

For a moment, Vivienne seemed lost in confusion before her gaze landed on her mother and Bartholomeo pushing through the crowd toward her. They murmured words of concern and reprimand, yet their eyes refused to meet hers.

"You foolish girl, how could you even think of doing something like this? If you were gone, how would I, your mother, go on living?"

"Exactly, Vivienne! You need to reflect. We’re family—what’s the point of all this drama?"

It seemed the memories came rushing back. Vivienne’s pupils constricted, her eyes slowly reddening. She forced herself upright, her glare locked onto the two so-called family members before her.

The hatred in her gaze was so palpable that even Gabriel, standing nearby, could feel it.

And then he heard Evelyn’s silent lament.

"Some family."

The air grew thick with tension, unspoken words hanging between them like a blade.

What would happen next?

No one knew.

But one thing was certain—Vivienne Monroe was done playing nice.

Compared to being blackmailed, what truly burned in Vivienne's heart was the betrayal from her own flesh and blood. The faceless blackmailer remained a mystery—though she had her suspicions about the leaked photos, never in her wildest dreams would she imagine Gabriel Ramirez was the mastermind.

All she knew was this: in her darkest hour, drowning in despair, too terrified to seek the police's help, she had turned to her family—only to be stabbed in the back by the very hands meant to protect her. The wound ran so deep it might as well have been fatal. How could she not seethe with resentment? How could she not feel utterly hollowed out? In that moment, escape had seemed impossible. But now… she had clawed her way back from the brink.

Adriana and Bartholomeo had never seen such an expression on Vivienne's face before.

It froze them in their tracks.

Adriana reached out, but Vivienne snatched the nearest object—a glass vase—and hurled it at them without hesitation. The shattering crystal mirrored the fracture between them.

"I have no family," Vivienne spat, voice trembling with fury. "You never treated me as one. To you, I'm just a piggy bank—something to drain dry!"

They scrambled back, but not fast enough. Adriana yelped as shards grazed her arm, while Bartholomeo clutched his forehead, a bruise already blooming.

"Have you lost your mind?!" Adriana shrieked, gaping at Bartholomeo's injury. "Attacking your own uncle—"

"Mother," Vivienne interrupted, the word dripping with venom, "I nearly died."

"You brought it on yourself!" Adriana shot back, lip curling. "So desperate for money you'd throw your life away. Pathetic."

Even now, they believed her suicide attempt was over stolen funds—not their betrayal.

Vivienne's face went eerily blank.

Evelyn tensed, ready to intervene, but then Vivienne exhaled—a slow, icy breath. A humorless laugh escaped her. "You're right. I was out of my mind." Her entire body shook, yet her voice was steel. "But I'm awake now. And I swear, every cent you stole? I'll take it back. No more compromises. No more surrender. Try me. Refuse, and I'll drag you to court."

Silence swallowed the hospital room.

Adriana turned crimson. "You—you ungrateful wretch! I'll disown you!"

Empty threats. Death had already stripped Vivienne of fear.

"Good," she said flatly. "Draw up the papers. I'll sign in blood if I have to."

The heart monitor's steady beep underscored the finality in her words.