Chapter 290

Beatrice never expected Nathaniel to be so fiercely protective of Vivian. Now, she didn’t dare utter another word. Silently, she gathered her belongings and left.

Before stepping out, she seized the moment when Nathaniel wasn’t looking to hiss at Vivian. "Don’t think you’ve won! You’re nothing but a discarded ex-wife. You showed me no mercy today? Just wait—I’ll make sure you regret it. Your peace ends here!"

Vivian smirked. "I knew you’d never change. You’d never willingly obey me. Good riddance. One more complaint, and you won’t even get your severance."

"Mark my words, Vivian Lockhart!"

Beatrice shot her a venomous glare before storming off.

The second she left Blackwood Villa, she dialed Eleanor.

"Madam, you must avenge this injustice! Vivian Lockhart is ruthless! She’s enchanted the young master and taken over the villa. Not only did she throw me out, but I’ve also heard she’s responsible for Cassandra’s death—"

For thirty minutes, Beatrice spun lies, eighty percent of them pure fabrication.

Eleanor’s rage boiled over. Her fists clenched. "I knew she was behind Briar’s death! My poor grandchild, robbed of life before taking a single breath! Vivian Lockhart, you’ll pay for this!"

After moving back into Blackwood Villa, Vivian didn’t just dismiss the housekeeper—she let go of every servant.

Now, only she and Nathaniel remained in the sprawling thousand-square-meter estate. The emptiness made their voices echo.

Nathaniel frowned. "If you fire everyone, who’ll maintain this place? Are you hiring new staff?"

Vivian shook her head. "I have hands. I can manage. Besides, I prefer the quiet."

Nathaniel nodded. "With just the two of us, it’ll certainly be quiet."

Vivian arched a brow. "Didn’t you say this villa is solely mine? If you’re staying, I’ll leave."

A man and woman living alone together—even in a mansion—was scandal fuel. She cared about her reputation, even if he didn’t.

Nathaniel hadn’t expected such wariness. His expression cooled. "I remember how eagerly you used to wait for me. You’d prepare feasts and sit on the garden swing all afternoon, just hoping I’d come home—"

"Stop!"

Mortification burned through Vivian. She wished the ground would swallow her.

Nathaniel wasn’t exaggerating. She had been that foolish once, blinded by love. Back then, shattered by family tragedy, she’d withdrawn from the world, dedicating herself to being the perfect Blackwood wife. He had been her entire universe.

She had waited on that swing countless nights. When he didn’t return, she’d stay awake, aching for him—

Now, the memory made her sick.

"Please, spare me the past. If you keep going, I might bite my tongue off."

She took a steadying breath. "Yes, I was obsessed with you. But people change. The moment you threw me out without hesitation, that love died."

"I want you gone now as fiercely as I once longed for you to stay. If you remain, I’ll leave."

Nathaniel’s expression darkened.

After a long pause, he nodded. "Fine. But look at me. Let me shower and change first. Then I’ll visit Oliver at the hospital. Acceptable?"

At that moment, he looked like he’d crawled out of a coal mine.