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Chapter_96
Vivienne sat back in her chair, her expression cold and unyielding, but her foot shot out under the table, delivering a swift kick to Percival’s leg. The gesture was subtle enough to go unnoticed by Cordelia, who was lost in her thoughts about the tension between the two. However, Percival—well aware of Vivienne’s silent signals—didn’t flinch. He simply looked at her with a gentle smile, a slight glimmer in his eyes that suggested he wasn’t as perturbed as she might have wanted him to be.
Cordelia, for her part, was still processing what had been happening between Vivienne and Percival. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was definitely a shift. Percival had been particularly… attached, always looking for opportunities to hold Vivienne’s hand or stay close to her whenever he could. She couldn’t help but notice how differently he acted around Vivienne, his devotion evident in the way he kept his gaze fixed on her.
Suddenly, Vivienne’s phone buzzed. She glanced down at the screen, her fingers stiff as she read the breaking news headline: “Chairman of Hawthorn Group falls ill suddenly and is rushed to the hospital.” Her brows furrowed for a moment, but her hand instinctively tried to slip out of Percival’s tight grasp. The effort was futile, however. Percival held on, not letting go. Vivienne gave him a piercing look, but his expression remained soft, understanding. She was about to respond when Percival, without saying a word, gently lowered his phone and showed her the same news article.
Vivienne glanced at the article on Percival’s phone. The blurry image of a person being carried from the Hawthorn Mansion toward an ambulance was all too familiar. Despite the face being obscured, the hospital gown and the way the person was being transported made it clear: it was Beatrice.
A hint of amusement flickered in Vivienne’s eyes. This was just another twist in the chaotic web the Hawthorn family had created. For a moment, she almost felt a sense of satisfaction at the unfolding events, but it was brief. Percival, noticing the change in her demeanor, gave her hand a small, comforting squeeze, silently offering his support. Vivienne wasn’t sure if it was out of affection or an attempt to placate her, but either way, she allowed him a reprieve for now.
Cordelia, distracted by her own phone ringing, didn’t miss the exchange. She picked up the call, frowning as she listened. “Hey, Dorian, what’s up?” she asked, her tone light but edged with concern. As she listened, her expression shifted. A sigh escaped her lips as she hung up the phone. “Vivienne,” she started slowly, her words tinged with a mix of resignation and disbelief. “Your dad just called. Beatrice is in the hospital. He wants us to go see her.”
Vivienne didn’t look up from her plate as she continued eating her pasta, her face an unreadable mask. “Haven’t we cut ties with them already?” she asked coldly, her tone sharp and dismissive.
Cordelia sighed once more, her eyes casting down to her hands in frustration. “Yes, but she’s still your father’s mother. It’s our duty to show filial respect. Your dad should go see her,” she added. “But we don’t have to get involved. Let him go alone.”
Vivienne’s eyes flickered with irritation, and Percival, sensing her discomfort, lightly ran his finger along her palm in an attempt to soothe her. She shot him a sharp look, but he didn’t seem to mind. Cordelia looked between them, noticing the subtle tension, but said nothing, feeling more relieved at Vivienne’s decision to stay out of it.
As Cordelia finished speaking, her gaze briefly flicked to Percival. She couldn’t shake the thought that the Ellington family might be behind the Hawthorn family’s troubles—if they weren’t already aware of it, Beatrice surely knew by now.
Meanwhile, in the VIP ward of the hospital, Beatrice had just regained consciousness. Her face was pale, her expression darker than ever, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. She glanced between her two sons who were anxiously standing by her bedside. “Was it really the Ellington family?” she asked in a low, hoarse voice, her eyes narrowing.
Michael, who was standing closest to her, looked grim. “The situation with the bank is unclear right now,” he said, his voice tense. “But several suppliers have confirmed that the Ellington family applied pressure on them. It looks like their involvement is undeniable.”
Beatrice’s eyes flickered with disdain. “And Dorian? He couldn’t even be bothered to see me while I’m lying here on my deathbed?”
Before Michael could respond, hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway, and Dorian appeared in the doorway. “Mom!” he called out, rushing to her side. But as soon as Beatrice saw that he was alone, her frown deepened.
“Where’s Vivienne?” Beatrice demanded coldly.
“Vivienne didn’t come,” Dorian replied, his tone heavy with the awkwardness of the situation.
Beatrice’s eyes narrowed in fury, and without warning, she grabbed a coffee cup from the bedside table and threw it at him. The cup crashed against the white wall, splintering into pieces and leaving a dark stain on the wall. The lid of the cup ricocheted off the floor and hit Dorian’s shin, while the spilled coffee splashed all over him. It wasn’t hot, but the gesture was enough to make Dorian freeze, hurt flashing across his face.
Dorian stood there, stunned, but didn’t move. His voice shook slightly as he said, “Mom…”
Beatrice didn’t care. Her gaze remained icy, filled with resentment. “Get Vivienne back here. Do you think I’ve lived too long? I helped her become the daughter-in-law of the Ellington family, and this is how she repays me? By letting the Ellington family destroy the Hawthorn family?”
Dorian was taken aback, his mind quickly connecting the dots. Arabella’s accusations on Twitter, the mounting negative press about the Hawthorn family—it all made sense now. His voice hardened. “Mom, Vivienne’s engagement to Percival was arranged by Evelyn. Our family’s status was never enough for the Ellington family, and you didn’t want Arabella to marry Percival because of his disability. At first, you only cared about using Vivienne’s marriage to profit the family. Don’t pretend you were doing it for her.”
Beatrice’s face turned red with fury, but Dorian didn’t back down. “You—”
Dorian continued, his words cutting through the tension in the room. “And let’s not forget what Arabella did. She slandered Vivienne. First, she accused Vivienne of stealing her fiancé, then she claimed Vivienne took credit for curing Faye’s illness.”
Dorian pulled out his phone, showing Beatrice the evidence. “Arabella took the wrong medication, almost killed Faye. It was Vivienne who saved her. Arabella should be in jail by now if anything had happened to Faye!”
The truth of the situation hit Dorian like a freight train, and his anger flared. He’d never regretted adopting Arabella more than he did now.
Michael interjected, his tone defensive. “Arabella is still your daughter, Dorian. She’s Vivienne’s sister! Family problems should be solved privately, not aired out to the public.”
Joseph, still glaring at Dorian, added, “Remember, you’re part of the Hawthorn family too.”
Dorian’s gaze turned bitter. “Part of the Hawthorn family? I’ve never felt like I was part of this family. All I’ve gotten is pressure and disappointment.”
Beatrice’s eyes flickered briefly with unease as Dorian’s words sank in. He continued, relentless. “If Arabella wanted to settle things privately, why did she slander Vivienne online and rile up the whole internet? Why are people blocking my doorstep and painting insults on our building? Why are there so many people rallying against Vivienne?”
Dorian gave a bitter laugh. “You really think these are just netizens? Do you think they’re doing this out of the goodness of their hearts?”
Beatrice looked away, avoiding Dorian’s intense gaze, her mind racing as she began to realize the truth of what he was saying. “What… what do you mean?” she asked, her voice trembling ever so slightly.
