Chapter 106

"Tell me how I can assist."

Vivian Lockhart sighed, her expression helpless. "I already tried pleading for him earlier, but Grandfather Alfred stopped me before I could even finish. He gave me a warning—if I bring it up again, I'll be punished alongside him. There's truly nothing more I can do."

She believed she'd done enough as Ethan Blackwood's ex-wife. Why should she risk trouble for his sake? The realization struck her—her feelings for him weren't as deep as she'd thought.

Winston noticed Vivian's hesitation and seized the opportunity. "You don't need to beg for mercy. Just help him... discreetly."

"Discreetly?"

"Exactly. All you have to do is take care of him in secret. No one else can do it—Grandfather adores you. Even if you're caught, he won't punish you. But if any of us try, the consequences would be severe."

Without waiting for her response, Winston swiftly packed a box with medicine and a warm meal, pressing it into her hands.

"Mrs. Blackwood, Master Ethan's well-being now depends on you. On behalf of the family, I thank you."

"Isn't this... wrong?"

Vivian knew she should refuse, but her body betrayed her. Her fingers curled around the box as if moving on their own. Her legs carried her forward, following Winston toward the memorial chamber.

Actions, it seemed, spoke louder than words.

Night had fallen.

The Blackwood family memorial chamber stood separate from the main estate, a solemn structure reserved for remembrance. During the day, staff maintained its pristine condition, but at night, only two dim lights illuminated the cold, eerie space.

From a distance, Vivian spotted Ethan. He knelt in the center, posture rigid, his white shirt stained with blood—worse than Winston's earlier description.

"Stubborn fool," she muttered under her breath. "Does he think this is some dramatic film scene?"

Her fingers tightened around the box. Reluctantly, she admitted to herself—she was still worried.

Winston sighed. "Master Ethan has always been strong-willed. He respects Grandfather too much to defy him openly. This is his way of proving his determination... for that woman."

He glanced at the guard by the door, who promptly turned away, feigning interest in the night sky.

Vivian slipped inside unnoticed.

Ethan didn't turn at the sound of her footsteps. He remained motionless, his back straight despite his injuries. His lips were cracked, his face pale from exhaustion and dehydration.

She cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Leave." His voice was ice. "Outsiders aren't permitted here."

Vivian's temper flared. After all her effort, this was the thanks she got?

"I didn't come by choice," she snapped. "Winston said you were half-dead and begged me to help. Otherwise, I wouldn't have bothered. Ungrateful."

"What concern is my well-being to you?" His tone was cutting. "After all the trouble you went through to see me like this, why pretend to care now?"

"What?" Confusion flickered across her face. His words felt like bullets fired at random.

"Stop acting." Ethan's laugh was bitter. "You gave Grandfather that pearl as a hint about Briar's child. Then you 'accidentally' dropped our divorce papers. Clever."

Vivian's mouth opened, then closed. How could she explain? She hadn't known Grandfather would interpret the pearl that way. And the divorce papers—she'd kept them hidden.

"You moved on quickly, yet you're still playing the victim," he continued, his voice hoarse. "I underestimated you, Vivian."

Her jaw clenched. "Fine. I'm devious. Believe what you want."

She set the box beside him and turned to leave. They were divorced. Strangers. Whatever he thought of her no longer mattered.