Chapter 8
“Sebastian… I finally get to marry you.”
Vivienne’s voice was honeyed; -sweet on the surface, but laced with quiet triumph.
As she walked down the aisle on her father’s arm, her gaze locked on Sebastian with quiet triumph–like she was claiming what had always been hers.
Richard Whitmore beamed, clearly pleased by the illusion of a perfect union.
He reached for Sebastian’s hand, placing Vivienne’s palm into his.
“This is my most beloved daughter. Take good care of her.”
Only then did Sebastian blink- as if waking from a trance.
He took a step back, eyes wide. The bouquet in his hand slipped through his fingers and hit the floor.
“This isn’t right!” he rasped. “I was supposed to marry Helena!”
The room fell into stunned silence.
ng the Whitmore heiress isn’t good enough for you? The
“Sebastian Lowell,” Richard barked, face darkening
“Wha engagement was between our families not specific to which daughter.”
“But the deal wasn’t to marry some illegitimate child, was it?”
A sharp voice cut through the silence. It was a board director- -timed perfectly, as if rehearsed for this moment. “Let’s not pretending any longer. Vivienne and her mother drove Lady Sinclair to her death. And Richard? He silenced her daughter with threats and handed
her fiancé to his mistress’s child.
“Let’s not forget,” another added, “this company was built by Lady Sinclair. And now that Helena’s been shipped off, we will not accept Vivienne as her replacement.
“Enough! Lies!” Richard roared, face flushed with rage. But his eyes gave away the panic. “Vivienne is my daughter! She’s Helena’s
half–sister!”
“No,” another voice cut in–low, deliberate, and unmistakably familiar.
Julian Sinclair rose to his seat, arms folded across his chest.
“Helena is the only daughter of my sister. And for years, you used her grief às leverage, kept her silent, and forced her into exile while pushing your bastard into her place.”
He stepped forward, eyes locked on Richard.
“As long as I’m breathing, Richard, you will never rewrite my sister’s legacy. Vivienne will never bear her name.
Just then, one of Richard’s assistants rushed in, phone in hand and face pale.
“Mr. Whitmore–bad news. The media’s picked up everything. Your name is plastered across the headlines–driving your wife to her death, banishing your daughter.”
“Investors are pulling out. Every single one of our partnerships has been suspended.”
“And the shares your wife left behind… She’s sold every last share to Mr. Sinclair. She’s out. And now he owns controlling interest in the company.”
Richard swayed.
“This… this is Helena’s doing! I knew she wouldn’t just disappear quietly!”
His voice trembled—then suddenly cut off. His hands flew to his chest.
Chapter 8
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The color drained from his face–then he collapsed, hard. “Dad!”
Vivienne’s scream echoed across the hall.
Sebastian stood frozen, numb. And then the memories flooded in–each one sharper than the last.
The way Helena had whipped Vivienne the first time they met.
How she always challenged Richard.
That strange moment when she told him he’d jumped the gun.
It all made sense now.
Helena had left on her own terms–checkmate in a game none of them even knew they were playing.
And he?
He had let her go, without knowing it was goodbye.
Staggered, he reached up and tore the boutonnière
chest.
Then, without a word, he turned on his heel and strode toward the exit.
“Sebastian–wait! You’re leaving me too?”
Vivienne sobbed behind him, mascara streaming down her cheeks.
But this time, the man who once doted on her without question didn’t even glance back.
He pushed open the door and disappeared into the night.
Chapter 8