Chapter 58

Vivian stepped back into her apartment after leaving the cemetery. The moment she crossed the threshold, her phone buzzed with an unfamiliar number.

It was Cassandra.

But her tone was uncharacteristically sweet and polite, nothing like the sharp condescension she usually reserved for Vivian.

"I apologize for bothering you, Miss Lockhart. While organizing the guest room, I came across some of your personal items. Would you have time to collect them this evening?"

Vivian's fingers tightened around her phone. Since when did Cassandra sound so accommodating?

What game was she playing now?

Still, Vivian kept her voice steady. "Of course. I'll be there shortly."

She had left in such a rush that she'd forgotten several important belongings. Even without Cassandra's call, she would've eventually returned to the Blackwood estate to retrieve them.

By eight that evening, Vivian hailed a cab and headed straight for the Blackwood villa. The staff barely acknowledged her presence—no greetings, no polite nods. Just cold indifference.

Typical.

Vivian ignored them and strode through the grand entrance. The house remained unchanged from her last day there. The same gilded furniture, the same sweeping staircase. Only the people inside had become strangers.

A bitter taste filled her mouth. Four wasted years in this gilded cage.

The parlor buzzed with laughter. Cassandra held court like the new queen of the manor, flanked by Charlotte and her latest fling, Micah.

The moment Vivian appeared, Cassandra transformed into the perfect hostess. "Miss Lockhart! We were just talking about you!"

Vivian didn't smile. "Where are my things?"

She had no intention of lingering.

"Upstairs in your old room. Everything's packed and ready."

"Good."

As Vivian turned toward the staircase, Cassandra caught her arm. "Stay for dinner. The chef prepared your favorite."

Vivian's gaze sharpened. "Since when are we on dinner terms, Miss Delacroix?"

The intensity in her stare made Cassandra flinch.

Charlotte sauntered over with a sneer. "Scared of a meal? No wonder Nathaniel dumped you."

Amusement flickered across Vivian's face. What an interesting duo—one playing nice, the other nasty. What were they plotting?

"Fine. I could eat."

She'd play along. Let them show their hand.

The dining table groaned under silver platters and crystal stemware. A bottle of vintage Lafite stood at the center.

Vivian accepted the wine Cassandra poured. Within minutes, heat flooded her cheeks. Her vision blurred. The room swayed.

"So dizzy... Why is it so hot...?"

Cassandra and Charlotte exchanged triumphant glances.

Charlotte nudged Micah. "She's done. Take her upstairs to get her things."

Micah's throat worked as he eyed Vivian's flushed skin. "Don't worry. I'll take care of her."

"Tonight's your reckoning, bitch," Charlotte hissed. "That drug would turn a nun into a whore. No escaping this time."

Her eyes glittered as she grabbed Cassandra's wrist. "Call Nathaniel. Let's show him what kind of slut she really is."