At Obsidian
While Alaric was happy due to Aveline, Damien was frustrated by the same person. He smashed the bottle of bourbon on the floor when Vivienne reached for another drink in the middle of the day.
"Enough." He hissed, unable to watch the love of his life drowning in alcohol.
The bartenders flinched and stepped away to give them privacy.
Startled, Vivienne quivered at his anger.
However, her eyes filled with tears in calculated ease. She wouldn't let Damien stay angry at her. Rather, she would make him angry enough to vent it on Aveline.
The more she appeared to suffer, the more it would stab Damien, and the more Aveline would suffer from his hands.
How could she let Aveline off the hook after being humiliated by her?
Huge drops of tears rolled down her cheeks. "Wh-Why are you angry at me? It-it was her…" she mewled. More tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill, warning him to stay calm.
The flush from the alcohol made her look even weaker. Her expression was so wrenching that Damien felt a twist in his chest. He could only clench his teeth and try to rein in all his emotions.
This wasn't the Vivienne Sinclair he had fallen for. She was once glamorous, a goddess, and a confidence walking in sky-high heels. But Aveline had turned Vivienne into an inferior, anxious, and insecure woman. And so Damien hated everything about Aveline.
Vivienne sniffled, her eyes momentarily lighting up, "I-I thought it was you. I wanted to surprise you, Damien." Her fingers barely grazed his jawline, her gaze full of longing.
She played her card far too well.
Then her expression fell, her eyes clouding with hurt and deep pain, "S- She was so rude to me, Damien. She threatened to sue me. She made me apologize again and again for just blocking her way."
She leaned into his arms, resting her forehead on his shoulder. Her tears soaked his suit as she sobbed like a baby. But hidden from his gaze, her eyes glinted maliciously, her fingers possessively clutching his blazer.
"Why… Why, Damien? Why are you sharing your things with her? It- it's already hard for me to wake up every morning knowing you had to marry her because of me. Why are you making it harder for me?" Vivienne continued to weep.
Clenching his jaw, Damien closed his eyes for a moment.
All his plans had changed. He had planned to marry Vivienne, but she was the one who pushed him into marrying a woman he had never heard of in his life.
Diverting from his original plan hadn't been easy for him, and all the complications were pushing him to the edge, testing his control, his temper, and his patience.
Vivienne clung to him when he quietly grabbed her bag and helped her off the barstool.
Why was he so quiet?
Why didn't he curse Aveline yet?
Why wasn't he assuring her that he would handle Aveline?
Vivienne continued to provoke him, still playing the victim. "I'm supposed to be the top socialite, but you know… She barely attends the parties, I have never seen her socialise."
And yet Aveline was a famous socialite in Velmora. That fact irks Vivienne, who had to put in double the effort for every event.
A faint frown appeared on Damien's face, but disappeared quickly. Vivienne was right. Aveline Laurent preferred her own space and a small circle of close people rather than networking.
It had even made it easier for him to convince Aveline to keep their marriage out of the spotlight.
Vivienne's brows quivered as she remembered all the times Aveline had stolen the limelight without even trying.
"She appears at a few fashion shows. She is a nobody, yet all the designers drop everything just to greet her."
Damien had wondered how a nobody could affect Vivienne. Well, he has learnt the truth. As a Laurent and as an individual, Aveline had long-standing ties in the fashion world. Her impeccable taste, her exclusivity, and her presence at only top-tier shows had built her a name.
Since she maintains those limited connections, the designers often send her outfits every season to maintain close ties with the Laurents.
Vivienne, on the other hand, had a loud style and connection with a different league of designers. Those probably didn't even know Aveline.
However, the socialites' circle does notice Vivienne, but they often eye the brands and styles that the Laurent ladies have easy access to.
In the end, Aveline's simplicity and elegance spoke louder than Vivienne's glamour.
Vivienne continued to whine, "Every party talks about her - if they have seen her, if she is attending, where she stopped by, what she was wearing. I don't want to be jealous of her, but…"
Damien didn't listen to the rest. Not because he didn't care, but because he had heard all of it before.
Two months were more than enough to know that Aveline wasn't even trying to compete. She was just living her life. And somehow, that alone was enough to become a thorn in Vivienne's life. And eventually, his life.
Vivienne grew more disappointed and increasingly desperate when Damien remained calm the entire time, to the suite and through all her words. That wasn't like him.
She clung to her last weapon.
As he helped her onto the bed, she grabbed his collar, a tear slipping from her eyes, "Do you love me?" She whispered, her voice trembling, longing for reassurance.
She expected a kiss. That he would stay. That she could have him for the rest of the day.
But Damien pulled her hand off, his gaze boring into hers. "Love, you don't need to worry about Aveline Laurent."
Then his voice dropped, low and venomous, his eyes glinting with malice, "She is on her last flight. The higher she soars, the harder she'll crash."
His tone softened, eerily gentle, enough to send a shiver down the spine. "She'll be out of your sight soon, Love."
He straightened, masking his frown as he tried to smooth the creases on his collar. He added through his teeth, "Out of everyone's sight."
Then he turned and disappeared into the closet to change.
Vivienne processed his words. The idea of Aveline dying thrilled her, but then… her eyes widened. She got off the bed and rushed to the closet, forgetting she was pretending to be drunk, "Damien, she can't die…"
"Yet." Damien cut in, completing her sentence.
Vivienne sighed in relief, her feigned stumble perfectly timed to look drunk.
If Aveline died, the doors to the Laurent Industries would close forever. Now that she had started working there, Damien realized he might gain easier access by simply visiting his wife at the company.
Before Damien could leave, Vivienne, still acting drunk, tugged his hand. "NexGuard… please take me as your plus one."
Neither she nor her family received an invitation to the event.
Damien remembered. The event was tomorrow. People would pay a fortune just to attend an event hosted by Lancaster. But taking Vivienne, especially in their current situation, wasn't convenient.
"I will call you." He said, playing smart, instead of turning her down straight away.
Vivienne assumed he would pick her up tomorrow.
She held her act until Damien stepped out of the suite. The moment the door shut, she strode to the bar counter, poured herself a glass of brown liquor, and downed it in one go.
The burn down her throat cooled the fire. Just for a moment. Then she clenched her jaw. Damien didn't play along like he usually did.
He always prioritised her, even over the business. But not today.
Her eyes swept over the luxurious suite, the suite that costs millions a month just to stay vacant, just to store Damien's things, just to be available whenever Damien dropped by the Obsidian.
If only she could afford it.
If Damien hadn't recommended Sinclairs, they probably wouldn't even have gained access to the Obsidian.
But she will climb the ladder. She would rise so high that those who ignored her now would bow to her later.
She grabbed her mobile from the couch and dialed a string of numbers like she knew them like the back of her hand. "Dr. Hawthorne!?"
No greeting. No hesitation.
On the other end, Elias began reporting his visit to the Sterling Villa and the increased dosage of poison in Aveline's body.
If only Damien had reported everything the same way, she could have saved all the money she kept pouring into Elias.
Vivienne relaxed after confirming Damien's plan to confine Aveline to bed for the long term was progressing.
"Aveline Laurent," She scoffed, recalling the radiant face of Aveline she met not long ago, "I will be the last one standing and gloating."