Chapter 142

The dim lighting of the VIP lounge cast long shadows across the room. Vivian didn't just spot Nathaniel—he was surrounded by a group of strikingly handsome young men, each dressed to impress in their own unique style.

They were all vying for his attention, using every trick in the book.

"Ahem!" Vivian cleared her throat awkwardly, suddenly feeling like an intruder.

Nathaniel hadn't noticed her yet. He was too engrossed in singing a melancholic ballad called "Ten Years Ago" into the microphone clutched in his hand.

"Ten years ago..." His deep voice filled the room. "I didn't know you, and you weren't mine..."

Vivian had planned to leave immediately, but something about his voice rooted her to the spot.

Despite being married to him for years, she'd never heard him sing before.

The man who was always so controlled, so unreadable, was pouring raw emotion into every word. His voice was rich and hypnotic, but what stunned her more was the pain laced through each lyric—as if he'd lived through heartbreak himself.

But who could have broken Nathaniel Blackwood's heart?

His first love, Olivia Sinclair, who was about to marry his best friend? The elusive Mr. Y? Or perhaps Cassandra Delacroix, now carrying his child?

One thing was certain—it wasn't her.

Satisfied that Nathaniel wasn't in any real danger, Vivian turned to slip away unnoticed.

Then disaster struck.

One of the men on the couch gasped dramatically, pointing at her. "Oh my god! Who's that woman? She's been watching us!"

The music cut off abruptly. Nathaniel's head snapped toward the door, his alcohol-hazed eyes locking onto Vivian.

For a long moment, he just stared. His expression was unreadable—not angry, not welcoming. He didn't tell her to leave, but he didn't invite her in either.

The tension grew unbearable.

Vivian forced a polite smile at the group. "Don't mind me. Please, carry on."

She meant to walk away then. But something stopped her.

If the press caught wind of Nathaniel Blackwood in this state, it would be front-page news by morning.

Like it or not, he was still the father of her children.

Decision made, Vivian squared her shoulders and strode into the lounge with purpose.

"I've changed my mind," she announced. "I'm taking him home tonight."