Chapter 113

Vivian flagged down a cab, pulling Julian inside with her. She gave the driver their destination in a crisp tone.

Twenty minutes later, the taxi rolled to a stop.

"Here we are. Let's go!" Vivian tugged Julian out by his tie, her grip firm.

Before them stood a row of futuristic dome-shaped houses, their neon-lit exteriors pulsing softly under the moonlight. The effect was mesmerizing—like stepping into a constellation.

"My private sanctuary," Vivian announced, spinning to face him with a triumphant grin. "What do you think? Only a select few know about this place."

Julian studied the glowing structures, one brow arching. "Secret hideout?"

"Exactly."

An attendant materialized, bowing slightly. "Ms. Lockhart, Room No. 3 is ready as always. Your usual setup is prepared."

Vivian flashed a smile. "Perfect."

Room No. 3 was a gamer's paradise—soundproof, secluded, and decked out with the latest tech. Vivian punched in the code and swung the door open. "After you, partner."

Julian stepped inside, expecting velvet drapes and mood lighting. His jaw dropped. "What the—? This isn't a—"

Vivian was already stroking the sleek surface of a Titan X9 keyboard, her eyes alight. "This baby has third-gen optical switches and zero latency. Paired with that 240Hz monitor? We're unstoppable."

It took Julian a full minute to reboot his brain. "So when you said 'fun,' you meant... gaming?"

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Obviously. I needed a squad—preferably eye candy—but your friends bailed like scared rabbits at Nathaniel's name." She sighed dramatically. "Cowards."

Julian pinched the bridge of his nose, torn between laughter and despair. Mrs. Blackwood was full of surprises.

"Lucky for you," he said, cracking his knuckles, "I'm a beast at Legacy Quest. What's the game plan?"

Vivian powered up the rigs. "Since we're short-handed, let's go old-school. One-on-one."

"Name your poison."

"Legacy Quest: Origins."

Julian choked. "That relic? You're into retro?"

"Classics never die." She tossed him a controller, eyes gleaming. "Less talking, more losing."

Three brutal rounds later, Julian was questioning his entire existence. Vivian annihilated him with terrifying precision.

——

Meanwhile, at Blackwood Group headquarters...

Nathaniel hung up on Oliver and returned to his paperwork.

Divorced. Done. Vivian's antics were none of his concern.

Yet the financial report in his hands might as well have been hieroglyphics. His brain kept replaying Oliver's words: She booked a hotel room with some guy.

The pen snapped in his grip.

"Damn it."

He grabbed his phone and dialed. What happened next would shock them both—