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Chapter_36
Beatrice’s face turned a deep shade of crimson as the reality of the situation sank in. The video played on the wall, and everyone in the room watched as Arabella was caught red-handed, her voice echoing in the clip as she secretly handed the packet to the nanny. The whole room grew still, the air heavy with the weight of the betrayal now exposed.
Arabella’s hands trembled at her sides, her once confident stance completely shattered. She had been so sure that she could control the narrative, manipulate the situation. But now, everything was crumbling, and all she could do was stand there, paralyzed by the damning evidence before her.
Vivienne’s expression remained cold and unyielding. She didn’t gloat, but her eyes held a sharp, knowing glimmer, as if she had expected this moment to arrive. Percival, who had been silent until now, leaned slightly forward in his wheelchair, his gaze unwavering from Arabella.
“Beatrice,” Vivienne’s voice rang out, steady and deliberate, “this is the chance you wanted. You wanted to care about me, right? Here’s your moment. Will you do something, or will you continue to let your own blood betray you?”
Beatrice’s lips parted, but no words came out at first. The video had left her speechless, her anger mixed with disbelief. It wasn’t just Arabella’s actions that stunned her; it was the fact that Vivienne, this “simple village girl,” had managed to outsmart her and her family in such a dramatic way.
“Arabella,” Beatrice finally spoke, her voice shaking with fury, “how could you… How could you do this to your own family?”
Arabella’s face was now as pale as a ghost. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. The walls were closing in around her, and she felt the weight of everyone’s gaze—accusing, judging, unforgiving.
Vivienne took a step back, her gaze sweeping over the guests in the room, who were now murmuring among themselves. Some were shocked, others seemed almost impressed by Vivienne’s composure and intelligence in handling the situation. She had exposed a lie and forced Beatrice into a corner without ever losing her cool.
“I didn’t think this would be the way I’d get justice,” Vivienne continued, “but sometimes, it takes a little push to reveal the truth.”
Percival turned to Thomas, his fingers still intertwined on the arms of his wheelchair, and gave a slight nod. “You can stop the video now.”
Thomas immediately swiped the screen off the wall, and the room fell into an eerie silence. All eyes were now on Arabella, who stood like a deer caught in the headlights, her body rigid and her eyes darting frantically for an escape.
“Arabella,” Beatrice hissed, her fury returning in full force, “do you have anything to say for yourself now?”
Arabella clenched her fists, her mind racing. She had been so sure she could pull this off. But Vivienne had played her like a pawn in a much larger game. The camera, the video, Percival’s involvement—it was all so expertly orchestrated. Arabella had underestimated them, and now she would pay the price.
“I…” Arabella began, her voice weak, but she couldn’t find the words. Her throat felt tight, suffocated by the weight of the truth.
Beatrice turned to Dorian, her expression fierce. “Dorian, say something! This is your daughter!”
Dorian, who had been silent throughout the entire ordeal, finally spoke up, his voice calm but filled with disappointment. “Arabella, this is unacceptable. You’ve put the entire family in jeopardy. Do you understand what you’ve done?”
Arabella’s face flushed even more, her shame mounting. She had never seen her father look at her like this—his disappointment cutting through her like a blade.
Vivienne took one last look at Arabella, her cold gaze unflinching. “I’ll let you decide, Beatrice. What will it be? You’ve just witnessed the truth. Now, the question is, what will you do with it?”
Beatrice stood there, her anger slowly turning into a simmering frustration. She had been humiliated, yes, but she knew that if she did nothing now, the damage would be irreparable—not just for her, but for the entire family. The reputation of the Hawthorn name was on the line, and the scandal would reach far beyond this room.
“Arabella,” Beatrice said in a voice that was eerily calm now, “you’ve crossed the line.”
Arabella didn’t respond, her head hung low as she struggled to control the surge of emotions within her. She had always thought herself above Vivienne, above Percival, but now she realized how wrong she had been. They had won this round, and she had nothing left to defend herself with.
The room remained quiet, the weight of the moment pressing down on everyone. Vivienne had exposed the truth, and now the ball was in Beatrice’s court. What would she do with it?
