Claimed by the Wrong Wolfe

CHAPTER THREE

Vivian's POV

Vivian stepped out of the Mercedes-Maybach S680. The morning sun brushed against her caramel skin lightly. From head to toe, she looks so sophisticated and elegant. Dressed in a fitted ivory pantsuit tailored to perfection and her heels—Louboutin, red-soled and unforgiving—clicked against the marble floor sharply as she made her way into the Reverie Couture—a failing company that she had recently acquired in a ruthless merger.

She had rebranded it and named it after her fashion empire—House of V.

“Have you informed the investors about my arrival?“She asked, her voice was cold and commanding, offering only a brief wave in response to the stunned greetings of employees.

“Yes, ma'am,” her assistant, Mia—a petite lady with blonde hair, responded in a professional tone as she swiped through the tablet in her hand with practiced ease.

“I already set up a meeting with them for 10. A. M. tomorrow,” she added.

“Alright. What is my schedule like for today?“

“You have a staff meeting by 8. A. M. A meeting with the first lady's personal assistant and…. Mr. Wolfe of Wolfe Conglomerate by 10. A. M. Then a tour to the departmental store by…..“

Vivian halted mid-step, her breath catching in her throat.

Wolfe. That name. That man—Tristan Wolfe. She was going to see him the first day she got back to the city after six years.

How poetic?

Mia, too focused on the tablet, didn’t notice and bumped into her. “Oh—sorry, ma’am,” she murmured.

Vivian didn't say a word. She just smirked devilishly and continued her walk into the glass-walled office that now belonged to her. She dropped her Hermes bag on the CEO's desk and walked towards the window, staring out at the bustling city of Los Angeles below.

“I will get your coffee right away ma'am,” Mia said before exiting the office.

The moment the door clicked shut behind her, she let out a long, exasperated sigh.

For six months, since she got the contract to design the first lady's thirty outfits for her thirtieth birthday, she has anticipated this meeting. She had imagined his reaction. She had played it over and over in her head. But now, with only hours to go, her heart was racing.

Six years ago she had left Los Angeles for Europe to start life all over again.

After the night at the bar, Tristan dropped her at her apartment—he even kissed her goodnight. She thought maybe everything was back to normal between them again but the next morning, she woke up to the news of his affair with a D-list model—rumors of marriage already swirling.

Vivian has never felt so broken or used in her entire life. That day, she realised that she would be nothing more than a body to warm his bed. She took a vacation trip to Europe. What started as a month-long vacation to clear her head became something else entirely. She chose not to return to Los Angeles—not out of fear, but out of self-respect.

Vivian, who had always had a passion for fashion started a fashion brand from scratch with the savings she had. Her heartbreak fuelled her determination and she did everything herself—the exhaustion was able to help her take her mind off Tristan. From sketching, to choosing the right fabric, sewing, modelling, and then taking them to sell at the local market.

It was never easy. From several sleepless nights, rejection from the local buyers who think her wears are too pricey to soaking her pillows with tears but she never gave up. Anytime she wanted to, she would remember the look on Tristan's face when he said, “I paid you every time we had sex.“

That was all the fuel she needed. She vowed never to be poor. So no man will think she's giving herself to him because of money.

Now, the fashion brand, House of V, has become a household name—an international fashion empire rooted in pain, rebuilt through power.

Mia stepped back into the office. “Here, ma'am.“ She placed the coffee on the desk. “The employees are already waiting in the conference hall.“

Vivian grabbed the cup of coffee. “Let's go.“ She made her way out of the office.

______

Inside the conference hall were tense as Vivian addressed them. She gave them her set of rules—sharp, clear, and uncompromising. Made them know they were here to work. She highlighted the company's goals which she expected them to achieve before the end of the year.

By the time she was done, the employees exchanged fear-filled glances. They could already tell that this woman was nothing like their last CEO.

Vivian returned to her office and collapsed into the chair.

Mia offered a polite smile and glanced at her wristwatch. “The first lady's personal assistant and Mr. Wolfe should be here any moment from now.“

Vivian nodded.

She pulled out a compact from her bag. She retouched her makeup and repacked her hair. Then she stared at her reflection in the mirror and smirked satisfactorily.

She looked powerful. Untouchable. Stunning.

Mia was staring at her silently, wondering why her boss was making such great effort on her appearance today.

Then her phone chimes. “Oh… they are already here.“ She turned and walked towards the door.

Vivian stood up, brushed off invincible dirt from her pants, and walked towards the couch arranged at the center of the room.

The door opens.

Her heart raced but she quickly steadied herself. “I got this,” she murmured.

Mia came in first, then the first lady's personal assistant, Mrs. Carter, and following behind was Tristan Wolfe.

The moment his eyes landed on her, it was like the world blurred out with only the two of them in it. His eyes narrowed with a mix of shock and disbelief, mouth parted slightly.

The look on his face was so satisfying that Vivian almost burst into laughter.

But she pretended not to notice him and turned gracefully towards Mrs. Carter, smiling warmly and extending her hand.

“I'm Vivian Lawrence,” she said smoothly. “CEO of House of V.“

Then she turned towards Tristan, offering a hand. In a cool and professional voice, she said, “Hello, Mr. Wolfe.“