Claimed by the Wrong Wolfe

CHAPTER 3

Vivian’s POV

FIVE YEARS LATER

An international flight from London, United Kingdom, touched down at Los Angeles International Airport. Vivian Lawrence stepped out, dragging her luggage behind her as she passed through the airport’s security clearance.

She donned a fitted ivory pantsuit and a red trench coat, paired with red Louboutin heels. Her brunette hair was packed in a messy bun. She looked sexy and mysterious.

Behind her walked a petite blonde woman in her twenties. She was Vivian’s personal assistant, Mia. She clutched a little boy’s hand as he skipped along happily, occasionally bouncing with excitement to keep pace with the adults.

Liam, just five now, was handsome and strong-willed. Like his father, he had dark, tousled hair and naturally tanned skin.

Five years ago, after discovering she was pregnant, Vivian had left Los Angeles for Europe. With Tristan constantly appearing in the news and the media, she needed to get away from it all, clear her head, and focus on preparing for her baby.

What was supposed to be a temporary stay in London soon became a decision to stay for good, not out of fear, but for the sake of her own sanity. Over the years, she had built a peaceful, fulfilling life for herself and had no intention of ever returning.

But everything changed when the doctors advised her to bring her son here for treatment. Liam had a rare, potentially fatal illness that worsened with age, and his chances of responding to treatment grew slimmer with each passing day.

She had taken him to some of the world’s best hospitals and others where she could only hope for a miracle, exhausting every option she could find.

Eventually, she was referred to a hospital in this city, which was conducting a groundbreaking research program for children with his condition. For Liam’s sake, she had no choice but to return to the city she had sworn never to set foot in again.

“Hi, Madam Vivian,” a middle-aged man in a black suit greeted her as he approached them from the waiting convoy, offering to take the luggage from Vivian

“Hi,” Vivian responded, stepping aside to let Mia and Liam in. Mia guided Liam into the back seat before sliding in beside him, while Vivian got in from the other side, having Liam between them. Then the cars pulled away.

“Ma’am,” the driver called several minutes after they had left the airport, trying to get her attention through the rearview mirror. “Would you like to stop anywhere in the city to do some shopping?” he asked.

“No. Let’s go straight to the hotel. My son needs some rest,” she said, gently patting Liam on the shoulder.

He looked exhausted, a weariness only a mother could recognize, yet he still managed to smile brightly up at her.

“Okay, ma’am. We’ll head straight there,” the driver replied.

Moments later, they arrived at the Hotel Belmond. Vivian stepped out with Liam while her aides gathered their belongings and escorted the luggage to their suite.

******

THE FOLLOWING DAY

“Thank you so much, Doctor. I really appreciate your help,” Vivian said, extending her hand for a handshake as she stood up.

The doctor shook it firmly, also rising to his feet. “You’re welcome, Ms. Lawrence. We’ll do everything we can for your son.”

Vivian nodded as she turned to Liam. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Liam quickly jumped to his feet and waved at the doctor. “Bye, Doctor.”

“Bye, Liam. You'll be fine, okay? Mum will take good care of you,” the doctor said.

She took Liam’s hand, and together with Mia, they headed out of the doctor’s office toward the elevator.

Vivian exhaled in relief. At least her son’s treatment was finally secured. With that weight off her shoulders, she could turn her attention to the other matters demanding her attention.

Once they were settled inside the vehicle, Mia turned to her. “Ma, the First Lady’s office reached out to confirm today’s meeting, so I’ve moved the meeting with the marketing team to 10 a.m. tomorrow. That way, you can meet with her and Mr. Wolfe of Wolfe Group today, followed by a tour of the new department store,” she said.

‘Wolfe. Mr. Wolfe of the Wolfe Group’. Those were the only words that rang in her head, drowning out everything else Mia had said. She was going to meet him again, barely a day after landing in Los Angeles. He was the reason she had walked away from this city and moved to London in the first place. How poetic.

It hadn’t been an easy decision, leaving her old life behind and stepping into an unfamiliar world. When she arrived in London, she didn’t have much, only her savings and a passion for fashion that she decided to turn into a business.

She did everything herself, from sketching designs and choosing fabrics to sewing, modelling, and selling the pieces at the local market. It was exhausting, but at least it kept her mind off Tristan.

The sleepless nights spent soaking her pillow with tears and the rejection from buyers who thought her prices were too high never stopped her. Whenever she felt like giving up, she would remember she had to be there for her child, and that she had vowed never to depend on a man for anything again.

Years later, that small business had blossomed into an empire. House of V had become a household name and an internationally recognized fashion brand.

Fast-forward to three months ago. House of V secured the contract to design forty outfits for the First Lady’s fortieth birthday, beating Wolfe Group to it.

But the First Lady, for personal reasons, had asked Vivian to let Tristan participate in the project. She didn’t want anything to do with Tristan, but because it was the First Lady’s birthday, she agreed as a gift to her.

She had initially planned to oversee the project from London, unwilling to set foot in Los Angeles because of Tristan. But now that she had returned for Liam’s treatment, she’d decided to supervise the project in person.

Today marked their first meeting to discuss the designs, which meant facing Tristan again for the first time in years.

She had imagined his reaction. She had played it over and over in her head. Now, with only a few minutes until they would finally meet, her heart was racing. She pulled a compact from her bag, touched up her makeup, fixed her already packed hair, then she studied her reflection in the mirror. She looked stunning. Powerful. Untouchable.

Mia kept watching her from the corner of her eye. Vivian could almost guess what she was thinking, but she ignored her and let her wonder.

“What time is it?” Vivian asked after she was done.

Mia glanced at her phone. “A few minutes past nine, ma’am.”

“Okay. Driver, take us to Pentagon Villa.”

Immediately, the driver took the next turn. A short while later, the Mercedes-Maybach S680 pulled up outside the First Lady’s private residence. Vivian stepped out, followed closely by Mia and Liam, and the three made their way into the villa.

Vivian had no intention of letting Tristan get close to Liam, but she wasn’t worried about what he might do if he discovered the truth. Whatever he tried, she had enough wealth and connections to keep him in check.

When they reached the reception room, Mia and Liam remained in the waiting area while Vivian approached the imposing double doors. Pushing the doors wide, she stepped into the grand room where the meeting would take place.

Her eyes immediately landed on the woman seated elegantly on the sofa. She was impeccably dressed. Her blonde hair was styled in a side-swept pixie cut, making her look bold. The woman appeared to be in her late forties. She had to be the First Lady’s assistant.

Tristan sat a few feet apart from her. His eyes widened the moment he saw her. She couldn’t tell whether he was more shocked or disbelieving.

The reaction was even better than she had imagined. It was so satisfying that she almost burst into laughter. But she pretended not to notice him and gracefully continued into the room.

The woman rose from where she was seated and approached , extending her hand.

“Ms. Vivian, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

“Likewise, ma’am,” Vivian replied, accepting her handshake.

“Oh, forgive me. I should introduce myself first. Rosa Carter.” She placed a hand against her chest with a small, apologetic smile.

“It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Carter,” Vivian said with a chuckle.

“I also owe you an apology on behalf of the First Lady. Unfortunately, an urgent matter came up, and she won’t be able to join us today. She sends her sincere apologies, Ms. Vivian.”

“I understand.” Vivian managed a polite smile, though she was disappointed. She had expected to meet the First Lady herself.

“Again, we’re sorry for the inconvenience,” Mrs. Carter said, turning slightly toward Tristan, who had also risen from his seat. “However, Mr. Wolfe of Wolfe Group is here. I believe you two already know each other.”

“Not in person,” Vivian interjected, then walked toward him and extended her hand.

“Hello, Mr. Wolfe,” she said with a smirk, her voice cool and composed.