Chapter 303

Vivian Lockhart never thought the day would come when her former mother-in-law and her nanny would join forces, plotting to reunite her with that despicable ex-husband of hers.

The absurdity of it all made her stomach churn.

She stormed into the kitchen and pulled out the marinated lemon chicken feet she’d been craving all morning.

The moment the dish hit the table, the tangy aroma filled the air. Even Eleanor Whitmore, with her refined sensibilities, couldn’t ignore it.

“That smells incredible. Did you make this yourself?”

Eleanor’s curiosity got the better of her. She drifted toward the dining table, her nose twitching at the scent.

“Want one?”

Vivian had already slipped on her gloves, ready to dig in. Pregnancy cravings had been relentless lately, and sour foods were her current obsession.

Eleanor hesitated, but her hand moved on its own, plucking a chicken foot from the plate.

One bite was all it took. Her eyes widened in shock.

“You—you actually made this? It’s divine!”

All pretense of high-society decorum vanished. She reached for another before she’d even finished the first.

She’d dined at the finest restaurants, tasted delicacies from around the world, but Vivian’s lemon chicken feet? They were in a league of their own.

“If I’d known you could cook like this, I never would have let Nathaniel divorce you. Why didn’t you tell me you had this talent?”

Eleanor was already mentally calculating how many more she could eat before it became impolite.

Vivian hadn’t expected her notoriously difficult ex-mother-in-law to be won over by something as simple as chicken feet.

Too bad it was far too late for that now.

“Do you have any more? I’d love to take some home for Nathaniel.”

Eleanor’s tone was uncharacteristically earnest.

“There’s a little left. I’ll pack it for you.”

Vivian didn’t mind sharing. It felt oddly satisfying to have Eleanor finally appreciate something she’d made—especially after all those years of trying (and failing) to impress her.

Eleanor left with her precious takeout box, practically glowing with satisfaction.

But her good mood evaporated the second she spotted the man stepping off the bus outside.

Tall, striking, and radiating an aura that screamed trouble.

Her instincts flared.

“Who are you looking for?”

She blocked his path, her tone dripping with disdain.

Julian Blackthorn studied her for a moment before flashing a lazy smile.

“Vivian Lockhart. I heard she’s staying here.”

“You’re here for Vivian?”

Eleanor’s spine stiffened. Her voice turned razor-sharp.

“What’s your relationship with my daughter-in-law?”