Chapter 157

The golden rays of the setting sun painted the sky in hues of amber and rose as Evelyn Sinclair stepped out of the sleek black limousine. The evening breeze carried the faint scent of jasmine, mingling with the crisp autumn air. She adjusted the emerald silk scarf around her neck, her fingers brushing against the delicate fabric.

Nathan Blackwood stood at the entrance of the grand ballroom, his sharp gaze immediately locking onto her. The way the light caught the angles of his face made him look almost ethereal—like a figure carved from marble. His lips curved into a knowing smirk as she approached.

"Running late, as usual," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

Evelyn arched a brow. "Fashionably late, darling. It's called making an entrance."

Before he could retort, Victoria Hayes materialized beside them, her crimson lips twisted into a saccharine smile. "How charming," she purred, her eyes flickering between them with thinly veiled disdain. "The power couple gracing us with their presence."

Nathan's expression darkened, but Evelyn merely laughed, the sound light and melodic. "Oh, Victoria, always so dramatic. One would think you were auditioning for a soap opera."

Victoria's smile faltered, but she recovered quickly. "I hear congratulations are in order. Your latest project is quite the talk of the town."

Evelyn's fingers tightened imperceptibly around her clutch. "Yes, well, success does have a way of attracting attention."

Nathan's hand settled at the small of Evelyn's back, his touch warm and possessive. "Shall we?" he murmured, steering her away before Victoria could respond.

As they moved through the crowd, whispers followed in their wake. The elite of high society watched them with a mix of envy and admiration. Evelyn kept her chin lifted, her posture flawless.

Serena Whitmore intercepted them near the champagne fountain, her silver gown shimmering under the chandeliers. "There you are," she said, handing Evelyn a flute of champagne. "I was beginning to think you'd stood me up."

"Never," Evelyn replied, taking a sip. The bubbles danced on her tongue, crisp and refreshing.

Nathan's phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening. "Excuse me," he muttered before striding off toward the balcony.

Evelyn watched him go, a flicker of unease in her chest.

Serena leaned in. "Everything alright?"

Evelyn forced a smile. "Of course. Just business as usual."

But as the night wore on, the tension between them grew palpable. When Nathan finally returned, his expression was unreadable.

"We need to talk," he said quietly.

Evelyn's pulse quickened. "Here?"

He shook his head. "Not here."

The unspoken weight in his words sent a chill through her. Whatever he had to say, it wasn't good.

And as the music swelled around them, Evelyn couldn't shake the feeling that their carefully constructed world was about to unravel.

Gabriel's words hung in the air as his gaze settled on Vivienne, brimming with a tenderness that spoke louder than any declaration. He knew Vivienne’s deepest yearnings—her past had shaped them.

Vivienne’s childhood had been shadowed by absence and longing. Losing her father young, she was raised by her mother in her grandfather’s home, a household where sons were prized above all. Her mother poured everything into her uncles, leaving Vivienne starved for affection. Trapped in a world that valued her less, she dreamed of freedom, yet duty bound her to stay, her helplessness a constant weight.

During their time together, Vivienne had once bared her soul to Gabriel. She didn’t crave wealth or status—just a home filled with warmth and love. A partner who’d cherish and stand beside her. And motherhood—a chance to give her children the joy she’d been denied.

Confessing this had taken courage. She wanted Gabriel to see she wasn’t like the starlets chasing fame; she was ready to build a life, fueled by love, not ambition.

Gabriel, though, had deftly sidestepped such conversations. Her innocence about romance had drawn him in—a safety net. Even if she stumbled upon his secrets, she’d never betray him. He knew she’d even support him financially, though he did care for her in his way. Commitment, however, wasn’t on his agenda.

Then Vivienne discovered his gambling. She walked away without hesitation.

At first, Gabriel scoffed, assuming it was about money. The idea that she’d genuinely wanted him—not his potential—seemed absurd.

Only when desperation clawed at him did he recognize Vivienne’s compassion as his last lifeline. So he made his move, certain she wouldn’t refuse.

Vivienne, with her fierce loyalty, would surely shoulder his debts if they married, laboring tirelessly for stability.

As these thoughts swirled, Gabriel’s eyes locked onto Vivienne’s bewildered face. He reached for her hand, the ring glinting—

But Vivienne jerked back, leaving him stumbling, his shock raw.

Her usual softness hardened into a glare of defiance.

The crowd’s stunned silence was deafening.

Nearby, Evelyn Sinclair bit her lip to stifle a laugh. Glancing sideways, she spotted Julian and Genevieve doing the same, while Isabelle Laurent—

Nathan Blackwood watched with a raised eyebrow, his piercing gaze locked onto the unfolding drama before him.

The live stream comments exploded into chaos, viewers scrambling to make sense of Vivienne Monroe’s unexpected rejection.

What just happened?!

Did Gabriel really get turned down?

I thought they were back together!

Is Vivienne playing hard to get? Or is there something else going on?

Vivienne’s voice cut through the murmurs, sharp and unyielding. "What are you even doing? I thought I made myself perfectly clear—we’re over."

Gabriel Ramirez’s charming smile faltered, his voice strained with disbelief. "Vivienne, are you still upset with me? Didn’t you hear what I just said?"

"I heard you," she snapped. "But it doesn’t change anything. We’re done."

Stunned, Gabriel tried another tactic—appealing to her deepest desire. "You… You always wanted a home. I’m offering you one."

"You’re offering, but I’m not accepting," Vivienne shot back, her tone dripping with disdain.

Oh, please. She wants a home, not a sinking ship. What’s his deal?

Julian Blackwood and Genevieve barely stifled their laughter, relief washing over them as Vivienne stood her ground against Gabriel’s hollow gestures.

Gabriel had completely misjudged the psychology of a woman who had been burned before. He hadn’t anticipated that the very sensitivity and wariness born from past betrayals—courtesy of Adriana and Bartholomeo—would become her greatest armor.

Julian and Genevieve exchanged knowing glances, silently cheering Vivienne’s refusal to fall for Gabriel’s act.

Gabriel, meanwhile, looked utterly bewildered, his confidence crumbling under Vivienne’s unwavering resolve.

He remembered their breakup vividly—how he had begged her to keep his gambling addiction a secret, and how she had agreed, despite the media painting her as the villain who left him for another man. Yet, she had never once used his secret against him.

How is this happening? Gabriel thought, frustration boiling inside him. A woman like her should be easy to manipulate! Why isn’t this working?

Just then, two familiar figures stepped forward.

Adriana, her sharp eyes gleaming with disapproval, chastised Vivienne. "Vivienne, when we forbade you from seeing him, you fought us tooth and nail. Now that he’s proposing, you’re rejecting him out of spite? A man like him doesn’t come around often. If you lose him because of your pride, you’ll regret it."

Bartholomeo, his imposing presence looming over the scene, added sternly, "Vivienne, it’s fine to have disagreements, but humiliating him in public is unacceptable. He’s trying to make amends. Don’t throw it all away."

Vivienne’s jaw tightened, but before she could respond—

"It would be utterly thoughtless of you to cause a scene now," Adriana murmured, her voice laced with false concern.

Vivienne froze, stunned by their sudden defense of Gabriel. Her gaze darted between them in disbelief. "You actually want me to marry him? Why?"

This was the same family who had spent years pushing her toward wealthy suitors—yet Gabriel was far from rich.

After a tense exchange of glances, Adriana finally spoke. "We only want your happiness, darling. You're grown now, and as your family, that's all we care about."

Bartholomeo forced a smile, his tone dripping with insincerity. "Gabriel adores you. Knowing you're with him would ease our minds."

Vivienne studied them as if they were strangers. Their sudden "concern" was laughable, especially after the icy silence that had followed her recent defiance.

For a fleeting moment, her resolve wavered. Genuine care from them was so rare that it almost disarmed her—almost. "I... I'm not what he needs," she said firmly, turning to leave.

They caught her arms, their grips deceptively gentle. "Sweetheart, reconsider," Adriana pleaded.

"Gabriel is perfect for you," Bartholomeo added, his voice thick with persuasion.

Nearby, Evelyn and her friends watched in stunned silence.

Isabelle voiced what they all thought: "Would they still be so supportive if they knew Gabriel embezzled ten million? This isn’t about her happiness."

"Disturbing," Genevieve muttered.

Julian scoffed. "Their 'concern' is transparent. They’re underestimating Vivienne."

Evelyn’s lips curled in silent derision.

Her relatives had always prioritized profit over people. But now that Vivienne was financially independent—defying their control—they were desperate. Gabriel’s proposal was their lifeline: no dowry demanded, a betrothal gift promised, and most importantly, a guarantee that marriage would "tame" her back into submission.

It was all so convenient for them.