Chapter 176

Vivian realized she was the only one feeling uneasy. Nathaniel appeared completely at ease, moving through the space as if it were his own. It perfectly illustrated that old saying: "Embarrassment only exists if you care about others' opinions."

Earlier, Vincent Holloway had trashed the entire living room, leaving chaos in his wake. Only the sofa area remained untouched.

Nathaniel settled gracefully onto the couch, crossing one leg over the other. His gaze fixed on Vivian. "How are you settling in? Adjusting to your new place?"

"What do you think? This is my home. Why wouldn’t I be comfortable here?"

Vivian glanced around, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "After four years of drifting, I’m finally back. There’s no place like home."

Nathaniel’s expression darkened slightly. His voice dropped to a murmur. "As you said, you still own half of Blackwood Villa. If you want to return, you can move back anytime. It’s your home too."

For a second, Vivian thought she’d misheard him. The warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced by cold disdain.

"Nathaniel, don’t play hypocrite now. Remember when you threw me out overnight to make room for Cassandra? Those weren’t your words back then."

A man’s fleeting affection meant nothing. Especially when Nathaniel didn’t truly love her—he just needed her help.

Vivian knew exactly why he was here, but she refused to acknowledge it. She wouldn’t give him what he wanted.

"I was wrong before. I didn’t realize Cassandra would be this unreasonable," Nathaniel admitted, disgust flashing in his eyes. Even from their first meeting, something about her had felt off—her sweet facade masking something far more calculating.

Unlike Cassandra, Vivian’s gaze was clear and bright, like untouched mountain springs.

Nathaniel couldn’t deny it—something in his chest stirred whenever he looked into her eyes.

"I had no idea she’d ruin Blackwood Villa like this. If I’d known, I never would’ve let her step foot inside."

He rarely stayed there, but he’d always loved the sunflowers in the garden. Now they were gone, replaced by dull, lifeless roses.

Everything that had once been Vivian’s was erased. The thought unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

"And?"

Vivian’s patience snapped. She cut straight to the point, her voice icy. "You know exactly how terrible your lover is. Yet here you are, begging me to spare her."

"Aren’t you the great Nathaniel Blackwood? Reduced to groveling at your ex-wife’s feet for a woman like her? Is that love?"

Nathaniel exhaled sharply, impressed despite himself. "Fine. Yes. I’m here for Cassandra today."

He didn’t waste time. "She’s still in the hospital, recovering from the shock. I want you to drop the charges."

Of course. Vivian’s chest tightened, though she’d expected this.

She inhaled deeply. "She stole and destroyed my things. The evidence is undeniable. Why should I let it go?"

With Nathaniel’s influence, he could’ve easily intervened—but Vivian had acted first. Her lawyer, Alexander Graves, had filed suit before Nathaniel could react.

Even with his power, he couldn’t openly defy the law. The only way out was for Vivian to withdraw the case.

Otherwise, Cassandra might actually face jail time.

Nathaniel’s patience frayed. His jaw tightened. "Name your price. What will it take for you to let her go?"