Chapter 212

Chapter 212:
“That’s right. Brandon’s left Millie in the dust. Vivian’s the only one on his mind now, so the answer’s obvious.”
“Looks like things got wild between them last night! Take it easy, Mr. Watson. Poor Vivian’s not in the best shape—don’t overdo it.”
Speculation exploded online, sending a stampede of reporters and photographers to the doors of Vivian Floral Design, all eager for a statement.
The news soon reached Vivian herself. Fury built inside her, her jaw clenched tightly enough to make her molars ache.
There was no way she had left that mark. Brandon’s lips were unblemished when he stopped by last night. Clearly, whatever had happened to his lip had occurred after he left. But what exactly had gone on between him and Millie?
“Miss Simpson, there’s a crowd gathering outside,” her caregiver said, concern evident in her voice.
Vivian’s glare darkened as she observed the scene beyond her window. She knew a response was unavoidable, but she absolutely could not let anyone find out that Millie was behind the bite. Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn.net
With Brandon and Millie’s divorce still pending, they remained legally married. Recently, Vivian had been stirring up drama to prove that Brandon’s affections lay with her, trying to paint Millie as the unwanted third wheel in their relationship. Revealing that Brandon and Millie were still intimately involved would spell disaster for Vivian’s reputation.
Claiming responsibility for the bite was also out of the question—Millie could easily expose the truth.
Her mind raced, trying to find a solution.
An idea sparked. She scrolled through her phone, found a familiar name, and quickly dialed.
Meanwhile, outside Vivian’s studio, the commotion grew. People elbowed their way closer, vying for a better view. Frustration simmered as time dragged on with no sign of Vivian.
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At last, the entrance swung open.
Vivian appeared, leaning on her caregiver for support. The color had drained from her face, leaving her looking fragile.
With a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “Forgive me, I’m not well today.”
Everyone present sympathized, knowing she had been given only half a year to live.
A reporter called out, “Miss Simpson, were you the one who bit Mr. Watson’s lip?” Another chimed in, “Miss Simpson, have you and Mr. Watson become romantically involved?”
A third voice shouted, “Miss Simpson…”
Curiosity surged, but the staff formed a protective barrier, keeping the eager crowd from getting too close to Vivian.
A hint of pink crept into Vivian’s cheeks as the barrage of questions continued, her usual composure giving way to a bashful glance.
Excitement rippled through the onlookers, making them all the more certain of their suspicions.
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.
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