Chapter 625

Vivian Bennett's gaze swept over Liam Sullivan, then flicked toward the chef standing with bowed head nearby.

"I'm sorry, but I'd prefer Western cuisine tonight," she said, her voice calm yet carrying an unyielding distance. "So-called good omens are just self-deceiving superstition. Those destined for happiness will find it regardless. For those who aren't, no amount of forcing it will make a difference."

Liam's eyes darkened.

He heard the unspoken meaning beneath her words.

"Vivian," he took a step closer, his voice lowered. "You don't really want Western food. You're just unhappy that all of this was arranged by me, so you're opposing me at every turn, aren't you?"

A cold, faint curve touched the corner of Vivian's lips.

"Think whatever you want," she turned her face away. "I just don't want to eat it. What are you going to do about it?"

Liam's chest rose and fell, a flash of restrained anger passing through his eyes.

He was silent for a moment, then finally waved a hand.

"Change it to Western cuisine."

The steward immediately bowed and retreated, instructing the kitchen to prepare anew.

Liam turned and sat back down at the dining table.

On the table were those delicate, intricately made Chinese pastries, each pair symbolizing auspiciousness and union.

He picked up his fork and knife, taking one of each type of pastry, eating them slowly and deliberately.

As if by doing so, he could somehow complete the wholeness missing from her absence.

The Western meal was soon served.

Vivian only took a couple of bites before setting down her utensils.

She wasn't hungry to begin with. She merely wanted to see how far his patience would stretch.

After the meal, she stood up.

"Where is my room?" she asked flatly. "I assume I won't be able to return tonight."

The helicopter had long since departed. This island was isolated from the world.

She knew this was his arrangement.

Liam didn't look at her, merely raising a hand toward a maid nearby.

"Take the young mistress to her room."

The maid approached cautiously to lead the way.

They passed through a corridor, arriving at a bedroom facing the courtyard. Outside the room was a natural hot spring pool, edged with white stone, steam rising gently.

"Young mistress," the maid's voice trembled slightly. "This hot spring is fed by geothermal water channeled from the mountain. Towels and bath oils have been prepared for you. Would... would you like me to assist with a massage?"

She kept her head down, not daring to look at Vivian.

The scene in the dining room earlier had been witnessed by all the servants. If even the young master couldn't handle the young mistress, who would dare not serve her with utmost care?

Seeing the maid's fearful demeanor, a wave of helplessness washed over Vivian.

When had she become someone to be feared?

"That won't be necessary," her tone softened a little. "Just prepare my nightclothes and towels, then you may go and rest."

The maid looked relieved, quickly agreeing and retreating.

Night deepened.

Vivian walked alone to the edge of the hot spring. A cool sea breeze brushed past, but its chill was tempered by the warm steam rising from the spring. Lush greenery surrounded the pool, the faint scent of flowers lingered, and the environment was so tranquil it gradually soothed her restless heart.

She removed her clothes and stepped into the water.

Warmth enveloped her entire body. Minerals seeped through her skin, easing her tense nerves.

The maid quietly delivered the nightclothes, then lit a soft, amber-scented lamp by the poolside, placing down a glass of clear, sparkling cocktail.

Vivian leaned against the stone edge of the pool, her shoulders and neck exposed above the water.

She picked up the glass and took a small sip. The liquid was cool, but as it went down her throat, it ignited a warmth that mingled with the heat of the spring.

The night sky was clear, moonlight streaming down like a silken ribbon.

The island was silent, save for the soft sounds of wind through the treetops and waves lapping against the shore.

Such peace should have been intoxicating.

Yet her heart felt heavy.

The hot spring's steam made her drowsy, and the alcohol scattered her thoughts. Loneliness most easily summoned memories, especially those painful ones she wished not to touch.

Too much had happened today. Her emotions were already stretched thin.

Now, gazing at the full moon in the sky, it somehow felt glaring—why must the moon be whole when human lives were filled with separation?

Her vision gradually blurred.

She thought of the child she never met. She thought of her current predicament, caught between a rock and a hard place. She thought of the ever-widening rift between her and Liam.

Tears fell without warning.

One drop, then another, silently dissolving into the warm pool water.