The Years We Took for Granted

Chapter 2

I turned and saw Vivian Pierce.

She wore a delicate white cocktail dress.

At 18, she possessed the vivid glow of youth.

Standing beneath the lights, she was dazzling.

She tilted her head slightly. Undisguised provocation and triumph shone in her eyes, though her smile remained sweet and innocent. "You're exactly 15 years older than I am—old enough to be my mother. Calling you 'ma'am' isn't rude, is it?

"Or, since Mr. Lockwood and I are so close, should I call you Elise instead?"

When she finished, she angled her head to one side.

Several faint red and purple love bites dotted her slender, pale neck.

A brilliant gemstone necklace hung at her throat.

It was the one-of-a-kind piece Derek had bought for a 7-figure sum at an elite international auction not long ago.

The entire city had talked about it then, and everyone had been certain it was Derek's anniversary gift to me.

The surrounding guests had quietly noticed the confrontation. Countless looks converged on me.

My expression didn't change. I remained composed.

Vivian was especially pleased by the crowd's reaction, and the triumph in her eyes deepened.

She took a bottle of perfume from her purse and held it out to me with a sugary smile. "Mr. Lockwood says you're getting old and always carry a stale, old-lady smell. This is his favorite perfume, so I brought it especially for you."

Soft gasps rose around us, followed by waves of whispers.

Every gaze fixed on me, waiting for me to lose control, to be humiliated, to make a scene in public.

15 years together. 5 years of marriage.

I had survived every hardship and helped him reach the top.

In return, all I received was the claim that I reeked of age.

The last trace of reluctance and attachment in my heart disappeared completely at that moment.

I had no interest in trading barbs with someone so young, and I was even less willing to lower myself by arguing with her in public.

I merely lifted a hand and gave the bodyguards beside me a faint signal. "Escort her out."

Two men in black immediately stepped forward and seized Vivian by the arms.

Her smile froze. She struggled in panic. "What are you doing? Let me go! Elise Marlowe, what gives you the right?"

I didn't spare her another glance.

She was far too young and inexperienced to have any right to challenge me.

She wasn't worth wasting a single word or emotion on.

The onlookers remained intensely curious, but no one dared comment openly.

I completed every part of the gala as if nothing had happened.

I had been home only a short while when the villa's front door flew open.

Derek strode inside, his face terrifyingly dark and his eyes brimming with menace.

I stood quietly in the middle of the living room, assuming he had heard about the gala and rushed back to explain and apologize.

Instead, he charged over, grabbed both my shoulders, and squeezed hard. Fury roiled in his eyes, and his voice was cold and hoarse. "Elise Marlowe, where did you take Vivian?"