The Perfect Heiress

How Dare He!

Vivienne's POV

Before the elevator arrived, I caught a glimpse of a figure in my vision.

Lilly.

I braced myself, wondering what kind of nonsense she’d spout this time.

“Vivienne.” She approached with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

I turned and smiled at her. “What now, Lilly? Have you teased enough about me already?”

She remained silent, her gaze darting between me and Chuck.

And that’s when it clicked.

She had come here to see Chuck. And she was afraid. Afraid I had told the mighty Chuck Knight exactly what she’d said about me earlier. Afraid Chuck might retaliate on my behalf.

She took a shaky breath before finally speaking. “Vivienne, I’m sorry about today. I shouldn’t have said those things. Don’t be mad, okay?”

Before I could respond, Chuck stepped in. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

His voice was smooth, teasing, the effortless kind of charm that sent an unexpected shiver down my spine.

“Nothing.” I brushed past Lilly and stepped into the elevator, leaving her standing there, her guilt practically dripping from her posture.

I turned back just as the doors began to slide shut. “Lilly,” I said, my voice cool but firm, “I’ll forgive you—this time. Just this once. So watch your mouth in the future. Stay out of my way. If you fail to comply with any of these—”

I winked, smiling. “Then I’ll have my dear Chuck take care of you.”

The last thing I saw before the elevator closed was the way Lilly’s face drained of color.

The moment there was no gap left, I swiftly pulled myself away from Chuck.

He let out a dramatic protest. “Babe, are you really ditching me after using me like that? I feel so cheap.”

I narrowed my eyes at his teasing smirk. “Mr. Knight, the show’s over. You can drop the act and quit calling me babe.” I crossed my arms. “And if I may ask—did you enjoy taking full advantage of me for the past hour?”

I was the one who paid for his time, yet somehow, I was the one marked—drenched in his scent, entirely, completely, as if I’d been claimed by something wild.

He lifted his hands in mock innocence. “Miss Sinclair, I’m not that indecent.”

“Oh, please. You took every chance to put your hands on me. That’s not indecent at all.”

His chuckle was low and wicked. “Holding your waist doesn’t count as touching, does it? Or are you saying even holding your hand crosses a line?”

The spot where he had touched still felt warm, tingling.

“Why wouldn’t it count!?” I countered.

He softened his tone, as if coaxing me. “Alright, if you say so, then it counts. I was indecent. I wanted to touch you, I wanted to take advantage of you, I wanted to—”

“What else do you want?” I cut him off, looking him straight in the eye.

Damn. He was handsome. Even now, when I was furious at his nonstop teasing.

His gaze darkened slightly, locking onto mine. The air grew thick, charged with something unspoken.

Both Chuck and I knew what he’d almost said.

…

Later that night, after getting into the car, I called my financial manager, Fiona.

“Miss Sinclair, your account at Knights Bank holds sixty million USD in financial products and twenty-four million USD in cash.”

“I just sent you an account number. Transfer ten million USD over.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

A pause. “Would you like to add a message?”

I hesitated. “Performance fee.”

“…Just to confirm—performance fee?” Fiona prompted.

“And this is a personal transaction.”

Fiona didn’t ask further, but a few minutes later, she called back.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Miss Sinclair, you need to check your notifications. Another transfer came in from that account.” She hesitated. “The message is… quite unusual.”

Frowning, I checked my phone.

[Dear Vivienne Sinclair, your account ending in 1177 received a transfer of USD 5 million on July 18 at 15:35. Sender: Chuck Knight. Message: ‘Compensation for taking advantage of my fiancee, including hand holding and two hugs.’]

Heat surged to my cheeks as I tossed my phone aside. “Five million?! How dare he!!”

Ava turned to me, grinning. “Miss Sinclair, are you talking about Mr. Knight? He’s so handsome—elegant yet alluring. And he happens to have the exact body type that you like.”

Tall, strong, lean muscles, broad chest, straight legs—dressed to emphasize his physique.

I did find that kind of body pleasing to the eye.

But still, five million! How dare he!

…

For a whole week, Chuck disappeared from my life, as if our grand engagement debut at Sophia’s lounge had never happened. And to be honest? It felt peaceful.

Without his teasing eyes and chuckles, I could finally focus. Only thirteen days until Sinclair&Co’s grand show. Even Pearl, my dog, had suffered from my packed schedule.

“Woof!” Her tail wagged furiously.

“I’m busy,” I protested.

My phone rang, cutting our staring contest short. It was Alexander, my big brother.

"Busy?" His voice was as emotionless as ever.

"Yes, very busy. You’d better say whatever you need in three sentences."

"I haven’t offended you recently, have I, Vivienne?" he asked, sounding helplessly amused.

I thought back to what Chuck had let slip—that Alexander had gone behind my back and set a wedding date. My wedding date. Without so much as mentioning it to me.

My jaw tightened. "Oh, I don’t know… maybe the part where you planned my damn wedding before I, the bride, even knew about it?"

"Alright, alright, I apologize," he said, chuckling. "But let’s talk business. This Saturday night, Chuck is coming over for dinner. Come home early, alright?"

I didn’t even hesitate. "I’m not going."

“Don’t act like a child now. A few days ago, you went that opening with him, practically telling everyone there that you two engaged. I didn’t force you to do that, did I?"

I pursed my lips. That part was true. It had been my decision to show up with Chuck, and now the entire city thought I was marrying him.

Alexander continued, "The Knights were very sincere, Vivienne. They said you can name anything you want, and they’ll meet all of them."

I exhaled sharply. "…Fine. You win."

"Good. Don’t be late." He repeated the order one more time before hanging up.

I straightened up and patted Pearl on the head. "I’m no longer in the mood for work. How about that walk?"

She perked up instantly, jumping off the couch and scrambling to fetch her leash from the corner. As soon as I clipped it on, she took off, practically dragging me out of the office.

…

Sinclair&Co’s headquarters was a seven-story standalone building in the heart of New York’s bustling Fifth Avenue. The left half housed the flagship store, VIP reception rooms, and an art space. The right half held corporate offices and the couture workshop.

"Slow down! Pearl!"

I struggled to keep hold of the leash as she barreled forward, my heels clicking against the marble floors.

"Woof! Woof!"

"Woooof—!"

Pearl, still racing ahead, suddenly skidded to a stop. Her round, wide eyes fixated on something in the distance, tail perking up high.

Finally, a chance to catch my breath. I leaned against a column, panting. But Pearl bit at the hem of my dress, nudging me insistently to look.

"What now…"

Exhausted, I followed her gaze.

A massive LED screen loomed over the flagship store’s first floor. And on it—Adrian. His eyes were shadowed under shifting lights, his hair longer than the last time I saw him.

A tight pang squeezed my chest.

Over a month had passed since I last saw him. Over a month had passed since I caught him cheating on me.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel anything. There was sadness. A dull ache. A piece of my past that still lingered.

But just as quickly as that ache settled in, another face flashed in my mind.

Chuck.

His teasing smile. His warm hands. His scent—too dominant, too impossible to forget.

I barely had time to process the thought before Pearl bolted.

"Pearl! Pearl! Come back here!!” I snapped out of my daze, only to realize Pearl had already dashed far ahead again.