Chapter 114

The robotic voice echoed in Ethan's ear: "The number you have dialed is no longer in service."

No longer in service?

Ethan clenched his jaw, struggling to contain his fury. Maybe Vivian had simply changed her number. It didn't necessarily mean she was avoiding him.

He opened their chat history and sent a single question mark.

The red exclamation mark appeared instantly. Blocked.

"Goddamn it!" Ethan swore under his breath, his face stormy.

She'd severed all ties completely. That woman had no mercy!

Only seven days since their divorce, and she'd already poached Blackwood Group's biggest clients. Now she was partying in nightclubs with different men every evening. Living her best life, wasn't she?

Meanwhile, her ex-husband's reputation was in tatters!

Ethan rubbed his temples, teeth grinding. After a moment's thought, he dialed Ethan Young's number.

"I need guest records for every hotel in Newport City from the past thirty minutes."

Ethan Young sounded confused. "Mr. Blackwood? What's happened? Why would you need—are you... trying to catch Mrs. Blackwood cheating?"

"Is that your concern?" Ethan's voice turned dangerous.

"Not at all! I'll get the records immediately!"

Despite his fear, curiosity got the better of Ethan Young. "For what it's worth... Mrs. Blackwood might be reckless, but I truly don't believe she'd take another man to a hotel. You shouldn't worry!"

"Get lost!" Ethan snapped.

Thirty minutes later, the records arrived. Vivian's name was conspicuously absent.

"Just as I said, Mr. Blackwood. Mrs. Blackwood is a proper lady who loves you deeply. Why would she—"

Ethan Young continued boldly, risking his job. "Those club photos with handsome men? Clearly just to provoke you. Even saints have their limits after what you did. Her reaction is perfectly normal."

Ethan expected fury. Perhaps banishment to Colombia's coffee fields or the Parimean fishing grounds. Instead, silence.

Then, unexpectedly: "You think she's doing this... for my attention?"

Ethan Young nearly choked. "Well... you could interpret it that way."

The ice in Ethan's expression thawed. By the call's end, his lips even curved slightly.

Morning light filtered through the curtains.

Vivian stretched, then clapped Julian Carter on the back. "You actually kept up with me, kid. Impressive. We should game again."

As a top-tier player who usually demolished opponents within seconds, Vivian rarely found equals. This rookie had surprised her.

Leia's "gift" had exceeded expectations.

"You're not bad yourself, Mrs. Blackwood." Julian studied her with newfound respect.

He scribbled digits on a sticky note and pressed it to her shoulder. "My private line. Call anytime."

"Deal!" Vivian grinned. "One thing—don't call me that. It's cursed."

Julian raised an eyebrow. "What then?"

"Angel. No—Rich Angel." She said it dead serious.

Julian's laughter rang out. "Alright, Rich Angel."

Humming, Vivian returned to Sunrise Heights, steps light.

Divorced life was glorious. If she'd known freedom felt this good, she'd never have wasted four years in that miserable marriage.

The elevator dinged open on her floor.

A familiar towering figure leaned against her door, clearly having waited long. His voice dripped ice: "Finally decided to come home?"