Chapter 29

"Cough! Cough!"

Vivian Lockhart nearly spat out her lemon water when Ethan Blackwood dropped the unexpected question.

'What alternate universe did I stumble into? Since when did this ice-cold CEO become so blunt?'

"Don't flatter yourself. Who fed you that nonsense?"

She deliberately avoided eye contact while denying any past affection.

"Multiple reliable sources confirmed your deep infatuation," Ethan countered, an uncharacteristic smirk playing on his lips.

Countless women had thrown themselves at him over the years - some with lavish gifts, others with their bodies. Their advances always irritated him.

Yet the thought of Vivian's past devotion gave him an inexplicable sense of satisfaction.

"That was purely performative for the livestream. The audience didn't know the truth," Vivian replied coolly.

She'd never reveal her genuine feelings. Maintaining this facade protected what remained of her pride.

But Ethan seemed determined to play investigator, digging up buried emotions like an archaeologist uncovering ancient ruins.

"Then explain the anonymous gifts. Or the way you looked at me in every photograph. And your immediate hostility toward Cassandra Delacroix - wasn't that jealousy?"

Each question felt like salt rubbed into old wounds.

"So?" he pressed.

'What's his game? Why this sudden obsession with proving I loved him?'

'Does he want to see me broken? To confirm his irresistible charm?' Her thoughts turned bitter.

"You're the most arrogant man I've ever met, Nathaniel Blackwood," she spat.

"Whatever I felt before is irrelevant. I don't love you now, and I never will again."

"If you dragged me here just for some pathetic ego boost, you're even more pathetic than I thought."

As Vivian stood to leave, their steaks arrived - premium cuts with mesmerizing blue flames dancing across the surface.

Ethan sliced his steak with practiced elegance. "Such strong reactions for someone who claims indifference. Sit. We have business to discuss."

Vivian's fists clenched. Her outburst had betrayed her, while Ethan remained infuriatingly composed.

'Not this time.' She sat back down and attacked her steak with vengeance, deciding to make him pay for this expensive meal.

The dining room fell silent. Ironically, this marked one of their rare private meals during their entire marriage.

Hunger overcame pride as Vivian devoured large bites, her cheeks puffing like a chipmunk storing nuts.

Ethan's lips quirked at the transformation. The old Vivian had eaten with restrained, ladylike precision - never speaking out of turn, never showing temper.

Who knew divorce would unleash this fiery version?

"Have you considered the fallout from your little stunt?" Ethan set down his utensils.

"My stunt?" Vivian scoffed. "Your PR team excels at media manipulation. Handle it however you please."

"So I have your permission?" His smile turned predatory.

"Isn't that your default setting, Mr. Blackwood?"

Vivian studied him warily. 'He's acting completely deranged.'

Then Ethan snapped his fingers.

The restaurant plunged into darkness except for a single spotlight illuminating Vivian.

Before she could react, Ethan appeared behind her holding sunflowers - her favorite.

Vivian recoiled against her chair, staring up in horrified confusion.

"Sunflowers symbolize steadfast devotion," Ethan murmured in a tone straight from a romance novel. "Just like my feelings for you."

"I'm sorry, darling."

"I love you."

Then he cradled her face and kissed her.