"Why are we in front of a hospital?"
Viviana half smiled at the woman standing in front of her. "I came here to visit someone. Tell me, what is your name?"
"Julie." She was the woman who'd been at the wedding.
"Julie…" Viviana asked, "May I have your account number?"
Julie blinked at her, confused. "Why?"
"I have a question," Viviana said.
"Okay?"
"The baby. Do you intend to keep it?"
Julie drew her head back, a bit stunned. She slightly frowned, nodding. "Yes, I do. I know all this ended badly, and I was a very stupid woman who'd fallen for the lies of a man. But I want to keep it."
"Then give your account number to me."
She hesitated, unsure what was going on. But eventually, she pulled out her phone and gave the number over.
Viviana browsed on her phone for a few moments. A ping came in a few minutes later, ringing on Julie's cell. She quickly glanced at the message that came in and went listless on the spot where she stood.
"What is… what is this?" She looked up to Viviana. "A million? Why? I don't understand."
Viviana beamed at her, though she was worn out.
"This should be enough, right?" She took a step toward her. "You should fare well with this. I want you to take care of your baby. You shouldn't have to worry about a thing or Fernando at the very least."
Julie's breath hitched. "B-but why?" She clutched at her chest, swallowing the cry that was forming at her throat. "I mean, he and I, we—"
"It's not your fault. It wasn't."
Viviana shook her head.
"You… He just-he used you, and you had no clue. You didn't do anything wrong, and you shouldn't beat yourself up. There is nothing to worry about. Actually, I'd like you to move on with your life and live well."
She broke down. Julie began sobbing, stepping into her space all too quickly to pull her into a hug. Viviana froze in her hold, eyes fluttering rapidly.
"I'm sorry for everything, Ms," she apologized, bawling her eyes out. "You really didn't have to do this. But-but thank you very much. Thank you so much!"
Viviana nodded against her shoulder and pulled back to stare at her face. "You shouldn't cry," she muttered, reluctantly reaching out her fingers to wipe off the tears on her cheek. "Be well. I'll take my leave now. There is someone waiting for me."
Julie deeply bowed to her, straightening up after with her nose twitching the more she sniffled. She watched Viviana head towards the entrance of the hospital and wiped at the rest of her tears.
"Thank you…"
….
"Do you want me to go in with you?" Nikolas, who stood next to her, asked.
Viviana didn't say. She snatched up his wrist instead, shoving the door open to pull him in.
Her mother, Rosalia, was seated up on the bed, lifting her gaze at the sound of the rattle.
Viviana let go.
She watched her mother cautiously for a few moments before her lips lifted into a nervous smile.
'Does she remember me today?'
She felt anxious, taking a step forward.
"Sometimes, she forgets who I am. And some days, she recalls me."
Nikolas's hands twitched by his side. He wanted to give her a hug. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, tuck her face into his neck and soothe her. But then he diverted his gaze at Rosalia's sudden voice.
"Such a handsome man you are," Rosalia said, staring at him. "Did you fall from the sky?" as she asked, she settled her feet on the floor, getting off the bed.
She pulled her drip trolley and approached Viviana.
"Ma…" Viviana swallowed thickly.
Rosalia cupped her cheek gently, pale lips curling into a soft smile. "You look so beautiful, my girl." Her eyes dropped to the dress. "Why is it tattered?"
Vivian chuckled softly, though sounded half-broken. "I wanted to make them mad."
The more they talked, Nikolas watched them.
Viviana was nothing but a copy-paste of this woman. From her facial features to her hazel eyes. Though compared to her mother's colour, hers was much brighter.
His gaze glided down to the ripped dress that looked every mess imaginable.
Still, despite the messiness, it looked…
His lashes flickered in slow-mo.
She'd always been the definition of perfection, and somehow, this little bit of imperfection it gave her… 'Hmm' He'd call it beau—
"What is your name, son?"
Nikolas felt his hands grabbed and squeezed with so much warmth. The lady was staring hard at him.
He smiled at her. "Nikolas."
"You're a beautiful man." Rosalia laughed, eyes growing thin. "I can only imagine the looks of your mother."
He coughed hard at her compliment, choking on his saliva.
That made her laugh harder while she patted his hand. "Your father—" She turned to Viviana. "—Was he angry?"
Viviana's face dropped. Her frown dipped. "Why? What does it matter? Ma, why do you care?"
"Because he might hurt you. He would never tolerate this and I—"
"Nothing will happen. Stop it, Ma, please."
Nikolas locked gazes with her, but she quickly looked away from him, walking Rosalia back to her bed. They exchanged a few more words before Viviana finally was willing to leave the hospital.
"What was that about?"
He was following behind her at a distance.
Viviana seemed to quicken her steps, more than unwilling to share. He'd seen how selfish her family was; however, he wouldn't say he knew how deep it went.
The one thing that bothered him was her mother. How could a man just abandon his wife and choose another…?
His eyes narrowed for a moment before he hurried his pace to finally catch up with her. The suddenness of his frame behind her sent a shivering breeze blowing against her, but before she could speak, he bent slightly and scooped her up with a single arm in a bridal style.
Viviana wrapped her arms around his shoulders immediately, startled.
"You don't just do that!" She whipped her head over, shooting him a withering glare.
Nikolas hummed, "So? Are we going to my apartment or yours?"
She eyed him. "I think mine… will be better. More comfortable if you ask me."
"I'll have you know my apartment isn't as bad as you may think." He smiled.
"Oh? Is that so?"
For the first time, she grinned at him in what he would call sarcasm, which made him laugh. So, she did have humor.
"And where's your apartment?"
"The penthouse," she responded. "Maison de Vesta."
Nikolas stopped. No, he froze.
Maison de Vesta…
That penthouse wasn't just any building. He built it. The hundredth floor, known as the king's en suite, belonged to him alone. And from the 99th floor downward, anyone could own a place there, as long as they could afford it.
Since when had Viviana been living there? How had they never met until that night?
"What floor?"
"The ninetieth floor," she informed him. "Why?"
Fuck.
'I am fucked.'
She clearly had no idea that he owned Maison de Vesta. But what if…
… She finds out?