Chapter 221

"Let's make it happen!" Vivian Lockhart's eyes sparkled with excitement after hearing Victoria Chen's plan. "Ms. Chen, I have to admit—you've outdone yourself. Solving such a complex case? No wonder I needed you at my firm."

She leaned back in her chair, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. "With you three by my side, there's nothing I can't conquer. Not just Newport City—the entire world will be mine!"

Julian Montgomery chuckled. "Boss, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Taking over the whole city might be a stretch, but securing thirty to forty percent? That’s realistic."

Vivian’s smile faltered. "Only thirty to forty? What about the rest?"

Nathan Prescott smirked. "Isn’t it obvious? The remaining sixty to seventy percent belongs to your ex-husband—our former boss, Ethan Blackwood."

The Blackwoods were one of the Elite Eight families of Newport City, and the other seven weren’t pushovers either. The Lockharts had once stood shoulder-to-shoulder with them, but mistakes had cost them dearly. Reclaiming even a fraction of their former glory would be a monumental achievement.

Victoria, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. "Don’t sell yourself short. Win this case, and the Blackwoods will become nothing more than your personal ATM. Surpassing them isn’t just possible—it’s inevitable."

Vivian exhaled slowly, her voice softening. "The Lockharts used to rival the Blackwoods. But one misstep after another…" She clenched her fists. "I’m the last Lockhart standing. I can’t afford another failure."

Julian shook his head internally. These women are dreaming too big. One court case won’t topple the most powerful family in Newport City.

That night, at The Starlight Lounge.

Ethan, Dominic Harrington, and Oliver Prescott occupied the VIP section, drowning their thoughts in glass after glass of whiskey.

Their presence alone drew the attention of every woman in the bar—each of them exuding a different kind of magnetism.

Oliver popped open another bottle, pouring generously. "Cheer up, guys. This is our last night as free men! After tonight, Dominic’s getting shackled to Olivia Sinclair forever. And trust me, that woman doesn’t tolerate fools."

Dominic swirled his drink, watching the amber liquid catch the dim light. There was no trace of joy on his face—just a heavy silence.

Oliver frowned. "You’re marrying the love of your life. Why the long face?"

Dominic didn’t answer. Instead, he glanced at Ethan, whose expression was equally grim. "Ethan, you’ve been through this. Tell me—did you feel this way before your wedding?"

Ethan stared into his glass, lost in thought. After a long pause, he shook his head. "I don’t remember much. Just… disgust."

"Disgust?" Dominic’s brows furrowed. "With marriage itself, or the person you married?"

Another slow shake of his head. "Maybe both."

Four years had passed since Ethan and Vivian’s wedding. Most of it was a blur—except for one thing.

Vivian had been breathtaking that day.

Her wedding dress—ivory with delicate sapphire embroidery—had made her look ethereal. She’d been shy, her cheeks flushed, unable to meet his eyes.

Back then, she’d been soft. Fragile. Someone he’d wanted to protect.

Now? She glared at him like she wanted to bury him alive.

Oliver scoffed. "Of course he was disgusted! He was forced into that marriage. But you, Dominic? You and Olivia actually love each other. After everything you’ve been through, you should be thrilled!"

Dominic and Ethan exchanged a look.

Then, without a word, they clinked their glasses together.

"Yeah," Dominic muttered. "I’m marrying Olivia because I love her. And Ethan’s divorcing Vivian because they don’t. So why do we both feel like we’re losing?"