Chapter 4

Vivian Sterling POV

Not long after we returned from the hospital, Jonathan brought Chloe Sutton and her child home.

I froze, rage boiling inside me.

He actually dared to bring his mistress right in front of me!

Jonathan changed out of his leather shoes and stepped aside to introduce them:

"Vivian, this is my old neighbor, Chloe Sutton. She came to town with her child to run some errands and is staying with us for a few days. It'll be good company for you too—I always worry about you being alone at home."

Chloe stood at the door, her eyes fixed squarely on me, a subtle glint of provocation flashing in her gaze.

Then, feigning surprise, she spoke in a delicate, meek voice:

"Oh, so you were the lady I ran into earlier today! What a coincidence. I hope I won't be too much of a bother these next few days."

Sitting on the sofa, I watched Jonathan and Chloe's performance with cold detachment.

I didn't lose my temper on the spot. Instead, I glanced up at Chloe and said distantly:

"Well, since you're only staying for a few days—it's not like you can live here forever—a couple of days won't bother me."

The smile on Chloe's face stiffened slightly.

Jonathan, having not caught the underlying edge, arranged for them to stay in the second-floor guest room.

Once everything was settled, Jonathan headed to the study for a meeting.

As for me, I went about my own business. Swallowing my pride right now was simply to ensure nothing went wrong before my final departure.

All I could do was ignore them.

Nothing happened on the first night.

The next morning, as soon as I woke up, I heard commotion downstairs.

When I walked downstairs, I discovered that Toby had smashed the only photo album left behind by my late mother.

He had torn up the pictures inside, leaving scraps scattered all across the living room floor.

I trembled violently, my blood running cold with fury!

Yet Toby was still squatting there, grabbing the torn fragments and tossing them into the air, clapping and squealing with glee.

I rushed over, seized Toby's wrist, and snapped, "Let go!"

The grip hurt, and Toby immediately burst into loud, wailing sobs.

Urgent footsteps echoed down the staircase. Jonathan rushed down, swept Toby protectively into his arms, and frowned at me in reproach:

"Vivian! He's just a child, he doesn't know any better! Why are you putting your hands on a kid?"

My hand trembled as I pointed at the mess on the floor, my voice thick with choked tears: "Those are photos of my mother! He tore up the last pictures my mother left me! Do you have any idea what that means to me?"

Jonathan froze. I knew that he understood the gravity of it, but with Toby screaming and crying without pause, he could only offer me an awkward, placating excuse: "There must be backups of your mother's photos somewhere. When we get the chance, we can just print out a bunch more."

After saying that, he gave Toby nothing more than a mild murmur of reprimand, not genuinely scolding him at all.

And Toby, so young yet already glaring back at me with pure venom in his eyes.

I knelt down and gathered the shredded fragments bit by bit, completely numb to Jonathan's words.

Cradling and soothing the boy, Jonathan turned and carried Toby back to his room.

On their way upstairs, Chloe stepped out after hearing the commotion. From the corner of my eye, I caught Jonathan signaling to Chloe with a pointed look.

Chloe turned on her heel, stomped her foot, and retreated into her room.

A wave of chill welled up from the bottom of my heart.

My chest ached so deeply I couldn't comprehend how the man I once loved with my very life had devolved to this point.

Was it simply because I couldn't bear children?

I only hated myself for not seeing through him sooner!

After cleaning up the living room, I went to the kitchen to pour a glass of water.

Without me realizing it, Chloe had drifted into the kitchen as well.

She strolled up beside me, let out a soft laugh, and said, "Vivian Sterling, I saw your medical report earlier today. I honestly feel sorry for you."

I pressed the dispenser button to fill my glass, my knuckles turning white, never glancing in her direction.

Chloe took half a step closer, her eyes dripping with mockery:

"Jonathan loves children so much—don't you think you're holding him back? He still has feelings for you and feels too awkward to bring it up, but you're clinging to the title of Mrs. Hayes when you can't even give him a child. Do you really love him?"

I gripped the glass tighter and replied coldly, "What happens between my husband and me is none of your business."

"Is that so? How long do you think a childless marriage can really last?" Full of sneering disdain, Chloe deliberately raised her hand to brush her hair back.

On her wrist gleamed an expensive Bvlgari bracelet!

There was no need to guess—Jonathan had bought it for her.

Chloe flashed a glaringly smug smile, casting aside the fragile facade she wore when she first arrived: "Some seats are too shaky to keep. Sooner or later, you'll have to give it up."

Hearing those words, I couldn't hold back. I threw the glass of water straight into Chloe's face.

Chloe shrieked, "Are you out of your mind?!"

Lukewarm water dripped down her carefully styled hair, ruining her makeup.

Chloe wiped the wet streaks off her face and lowered her voice to a bitter snarl:

"Splashing water on me because I hit a nerve? You're hogging the position while being completely incapable of having a child. You know better than anyone how desperately Jonathan wants a son."

I set the empty glass down hard against the marble countertop with a sharp clatter:

"My life is none of your concern. Get out."

"What are you two shouting about?" The sliding door was shoved open violently as Jonathan rushed inside.

Catching sight of the drenched Chloe, Jonathan's face instantly darkened. He pulled Chloe behind him and lashed out at me furiously:

"Vivian Sterling! What kind of fit are you throwing now?! Chloe was kind enough to come in here and wash some fruit for you, and you threw water on her?!"

Chloe's eyes welled with tears at once. Clinging to Jonathan's sleeve, she sniffled, playing the picture of wounded innocence:

"Jonathan, it was my own fault. I misspoke and brought up having kids, which upset Vivian. It makes sense that she's angry."

Jonathan looked thoroughly exasperated, his former warmth utterly gone.

He turned toward me and barked an order:

"Chloe is a guest! Can't you show even a shred of grace?! Apologize to Chloe right now!"

Looking at the husband hurling accusations at me, I felt nothing but sheer absurdity.

I raised my head to meet Jonathan's furious gaze, my eyes completely frozen over, and spoke coldly:

"Me? Apologize to her?"

"Earlier today, Toby tore up my late mother's photos in the living room, and you brushed it off saying he's just a little boy. Just now, she stood in this kitchen mocking and belittling me, and you demand I apologize to her?"

I let out a chilling laugh, my voice devoid of warmth:

"Jonathan Hayes, if your neighbor's feelings mean that much to you, pack her up and get the hell out of here right now."