Chapter 237

Ethan Blackwood studied Vivian Lockhart over the rim of his glass. "So," he began, voice casual, "what are your plans?"

Vivian took another sip of soup before glancing up. "Plans for what?"

"You can't seriously stay in the business world forever," Ethan said, his tone edged with something unreadable. "It's ruthless. Dangerous. You won't last."

He knew firsthand the brutal realities of the industry. The backstabbing, the betrayals, the sleepless nights. And Vivian—sharp as she was—was still just a woman in a man’s game. Even divorced, he didn’t want that life for her.

Vivian arched a brow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Who says I can't handle it? Look at me now. Lockhart Enterprises is barely six months old, and we’ve already landed Kingsley Holdings. I’m president of the Tech Innovators Alliance. Everything’s going perfectly. So forgive me if I don’t see the danger you’re so worried about."

Ethan’s jaw tightened. "You’re being naive." His voice dropped, low and urgent. "Kingsley Holdings is a ticking time bomb. Leonard Kingsley might be throwing money at you now, but wait until it’s time to collect. You’ll see exactly how ruthless he is."

He leaned forward, eyes dark. "And that alliance presidency? Handed to you overnight. People resent that. Power like that comes with enemies. Walk away before it’s too late."

Every word was steeped in his own scars—lessons carved in blood and loss.

Vivian scoffed. "How generous of you, Mr. Blackwood. But I don’t need your charity. Or your protection."

"That’s not what I—"

"Then what?" she challenged.

Ethan exhaled sharply, his fingers curling into fists. "Do you even remember how your parents died? How the Lockharts fell? You think you’re stronger than them? Stronger than me?"

His voice cracked. "My brother died in front of me. I watched him take his last breath. Couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it."

The raw pain in his words made Vivian falter. For the first time, she saw past the cold CEO to the man beneath—broken, haunted.

She swallowed. "Ethan… you don’t have to worry about me."

A pause. Then, softer: "I never planned to stay in this world anyway. It’s exhausting. Once I’ve secured what I need, I’m gone."

"Gone?" His gaze snapped to hers. "Where?"

"That’s my business." She shrugged. "But I won’t be in Newport City anymore."

The words hung between them. Ethan’s expression shuttered. "If running makes you happy," he said icily, "then go."

He had no right to ask her to stay.

The rest of the meal passed in rare peace—no barbs, no bitterness. Just two people who’d once meant everything to each other, talking like old friends.

As they stood to leave, Vivian suddenly swayed. The world tilted. Her vision swam with fragmented images—flashes of something wrong.

Her hand shot out, gripping Ethan’s arm. Her voice was a whisper, urgent.

"Ethan. Wait."