Chapter 5 Vivienne

The city didn't just buzz with news of Ethan Sinclair's wedding, it had practically detonated like an atomic bomb. From the moment the announcement had hit the press, chaos reigned all over Melbourne. Pundits debated, investors speculated and the entire board of directors scrambled behind closed doors, shocked and completely taken aback by the cold brilliance of Ethan's move.

Now every whisper and headline collided into a singular spectacle at the grand ballroom of the Saint Regis Hotel. Limousines formed a silver river outside and expensive gowns studded with precious jewels swept across the red carpets. Billionaires and socialites packed the room like it was the coronation of a king, and in a way... it was.

The groom stood handsome and proud at the altar like he was made from marble and ambition, his black tuxedo was perfect to the smallest thread, his expression remained locked in that same icy disinterest that had built him an empire.

"You know," Hugo murmured beside him, adjusting his cufflinks and smirking, "for a man who doesn't give a damn, you sure know how to pick a stunner."

Ethan didn't so much as give a facial acknowledgement to the compliment.

"This isn't about looks," he said dryly. "It's business and as long as she knows her place, she can do whatever the hell she wants."

"Charming," Hugo muttered under his breath, shaking his head with a grin. "You're a real romantic Sinclair."

The music changed, and the crowd collectively turned to the grand staircase... And there she was.

Lena.

The world held its breath.

The dress... God, the dress she wore was a masterpiece, silk and shadow and light all at once, hugging her beautiful curves in a way that made even the most jaded socialites straighten in their chairs, and some jealous wives glaring at their husbands. Her dark hair had been shaped into loose waves, and her makeup was fierce... classic red lips and a cat-eye sharp enough to kill. She descended the steps slowly, each movement slow and confident like she was daring the room to underestimate her.

Cameras flashed. Reporters scribbled furiously.

Ethan watched her with a stony look on his face. No emotion. No reaction. But deep inside, something twisted once... a sudden feeling he didn't dare accommodate and immediately had to crush. When Lena finally reached him, her eyes snapped up to meet him in a challenging and defiant way. He offered his arm and she took it, her fingers cool against his wrist.

The ceremony was a blur of hollow words and obligation.

"To have and to hold..."

Nothing about love. Nothing about loyalty.

Just a contract sealed with paper and ink.

"You may kiss the bride."

Ethan leaned in and his mouth brushed hers with disinterest. The kiss barely touched her lips before he pulled back, offering only what duty required and nothing more.

The ballroom erupted in applause.

Photographs followed... staged, artificial and exhausting for the reluctant couple. Lena's smile was forced for the cameras, keeping her hand light on Ethan's arm while she burned on the inside. He hadn't even looked at her properly, hadn't acknowledged that she was even a woman standing beside him, let alone a partner.

'Stay out of my way'. That's what his cold detachment plainly said to her, not that she really cared about it, but still it was her wedding even if it was fake or not. After a grueling hour of small talk and staged interactions, the party truly began. Ethan spoke with a senator while Lena charmed a famous artist and Hugo cracked jokes with half the room.

It was during one of these scattered conversations that Lena saw her. The woman moved like danger incarnate, a sexy red dress, glossy dark hair, and a wicked smile that promised ruin and destruction. Heads turned when she passed. Men and women alike couldn't help but stare.

When she approached Ethan, Lena stiffened instinctively.

The greeting was brief but hinted that there was definitely history between the both of them.

"Vivienne," Ethan said in a flat and cold greeting.

Vivienne's smile remained constant as perfectly manicured fingers grazed his wrist lightly... the gesture looked like an old habit, casual and familiar... and she laughed low in her throat.

Lena saw it all but she looked away, refusing to give Vivienne the satisfaction... She didn't care.

Until Vivienne decided she did.

Half an hour later while Ethan was trapped in a conversation with two foreign ministers, Lena wandered to a quieter part of the ballroom, needing a moment of air away from the endless cameras and scrutiny from the guests who were all still probably wondering how Ethan had ended up marrying someone so far away from his social circle. She was swirling the champagne in her glass when she felt a presence beside her.

"Beautiful ceremony," Vivienne said sweetly.

Lena turned, cocking an eyebrow slowly. "Wasn't it just?"

Vivienne's smile was all venom covered in sweetness and charm.

"You must be exhausted, rushing into marriage so quickly... it's a lot to take in isn't it?"

Lena shrugged. "Some things are actually worth rushing for."

Vivienne tilted her head, pretending to consider the comment.

"And some things are worth fighting for," she said lightly, running a finger around the rim of her martini glass. "You see, I know Ethan... Intimately, more than you can ever hope to.."

Lena's pulse didn't even jump. She leaned lazily against the marble pillar, giving Vivienne a slow and dismissive once-over.

"You and half the city know him very well, if the tabloids are right."

For the first time, Vivienne's facade showed signs of weakness and her fake smile thinned.

"You're bold," she said. "That'll be interesting to watch as you crash and burn."

Lena's lips twitched upward in a smile as cold as Ethan's.

"You'll be watching from the sidelines darling. Try not to choke on your jealousy."

Vivienne stepped closer, so near their perfume collided... a fragrant and sweet war.

Then in a voice that sounded like a beautiful dagger, Vivienne whispered..."You're just keeping my seat warm. Don't get comfortable."