A Price Too High

Monica slammed the car door shut and marched up the limestone steps of Kensington Manor. The sting of her verbal defeat burned in her chest. Vivienne’s mocking laughter still rang in her ears. She pushed through the heavy mahogany double doors, her heels clicking fiercely against the imported marble floors. She needed to deal with this problem, and she knew exactly how to do it.

She found Richard in his study, sitting comfortably in a leather wingback chair. He had a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose, holding the evening newspaper.

"Richard," Monica gasped, placing a hand over her heart. She forced her voice to tremble, emphasizing her distress with exaggerated sorrow.

Richard lowered the newspaper. He looked up, noting her pale face. "What happened? You look dreadful."

"It’s Vivi," Monica said. She collapsed onto the velvet sofa opposite his desk. "She has returned to Valoria."

Richard furrowed his brows in surprise. "Vivi is back?"

"Yes, and she is no longer the girl we knew," Monica lamented. "She goes by Veda now. The renowned jewelry designer. I went to see her at Lumina today out of the goodness of my heart. I wanted to welcome her back. But Richard, she was incredibly hostile."

Richard took his glasses off, his expression turning serious.

Monica leaned forward, making sure to catch his eye. "She doesn't care about our family at all. Cami told me she even met Mr. Rothwell recently and audaciously refused to show him any respect. She was insolent to him. She didn't care to flatter him, let alone Cami and me. She scolded me and threw me out of her office."

Richard’s face tightened. He knew his daughter Camilla was in a relationship with Gideon Rothwell. He had placed all his hopes on that union. Gideon was the golden ticket for the Kensington family. Richard valued his future son-in-law above all else. He wanted the reputation and the elite status.

He refused to sit on the bench and risk Vivienne offending his perfect, wealthy future son-in-law. If Vivienne angered the Rothwell patriarch, the fallout would ruin the entire family.

Richard folded the newspaper and tossed it onto the desk. "This girl," he muttered, his voice dipping ominously. "I haven’t seen her in six years, and the first thing she does is provoke Mr. Rothwell?"

Monica walked over to his side. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "We cannot let her keep acting so recklessly. We don't know when Mr. Rothwell might take his anger out on Cami because of her."

Richard’s expression dimmed. "I will get that girl to come back home tomorrow," he declared solemnly.

Monica hid a sinister smile. She silently reveled in the fact that her powerful husband would soon aggressively discipline Vivienne's foul mouth.

Later that evening, the dining room at Oceanfront Villa was a picture of chaotic warmth. Vivienne carried a bowl of soup to the table, smiling at the sight of her three children chattering away. She sat down and picked up her fork, glancing across the table. Her sharp eyes immediately noticed something amiss.

"Chloe," Vivienne said, setting her utensils down on the placemat. "What is wrong with your cheek?"

Under the bright lights, an angry, puffy redness marked Chloe’s soft skin.

Chloe sniffled, poking at her peas. "We went to lunch with Godmother Harper today. We ran into Camilla’s mother at the restaurant."

Vivienne felt her blood turn to ice.

"That bad woman came up to us," Chloe continued tearfully. "She questioned if we were your kids out of nowhere. And then she slapped me."

A terrifying surge of maternal fury rushed through Vivienne. She gripped her metal spoon so hard she almost bent it in half. Monica had struck her child. But a cold wave of panic quickly followed the anger. Frantically wondering exactly how Monica discovered her deepest secret, Vivienne's mind raced. How was Monica so certain these were her children?

Before she could dwell on the security breach, Chloe reached across the table. The little girl placed her small hand over Vivienne’s rigid knuckles.

"Don't be angry, Mommy," Chloe lamented, her lip quivering. "It doesn't hurt much. The reason I’m sad is that the children of other families are protected by their daddy, but I‘m not."

Vivienne’s heart gave a painful thud. She provided a wealthy environment for her kids, but they lacked a father's love. She felt a deep guilt. She didn't know how to explain their father to them, mostly because she knew nothing about him.

Maddox put his fork down and raised his head, turning his big eyes to his mother. "Mommy, why did Daddy abandon us?" he earnestly demanded to know.

Jaxon quickly piled onto the emotional display. "Yes, why doesn’t Daddy want us anymore? Were we bad?"

Vivienne opened her mouth, but Chloe beat her to it. The little girl threw her head back and began to wail loudly. "He must have found another woman! That’s why he doesn't want to be with Mommy and us! He doesn't love us!"

Jaxon and Maddox exchanged a quick glance. Chloe’s acting skills were impeccable. She deserved an Oscar.

Vivienne found herself cornered by the triplets' Oscar-worthy acting. Deciding to bite the bullet to end the conversation, she put on a deeply sorrowful face.

"Let’s not continue with this topic anymore," she said softly, looking down at her plate. "I won’t mention your daddy to the three of you because your daddy died very young. I can imagine that weeds have covered his grave at this very moment."

The sheer morbidity and deadpan delivery of the blatant lie short-circuited the three rugrats. Jaxon’s mouth hung open. Maddox blinked, stunned. Chloe forgot to squeeze out her tears. They were rendered utterly speechless at the dinner table.

Before the kids could recover and interrogate her further, Vivienne was saved by a sudden, jarring call from the traffic police department.

Twenty minutes later, Vivienne rushed down to the local precinct. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. She scanned the busy room and found Harper sitting pitifully in a hard plastic chair in the corner, looking thoroughly defeated. Harper clutched her designer handbag to her chest, her face pale.

Vivienne took a deep breath and stepped forward. "Harper, what did you do this time?"

Harper nervously stammered, "I... I accidentally rear-ended a car. Vivi, it belongs to someone I couldn't afford to offend. My father will skin me alive."

Vivienne sighed in exasperation, crossing her arms. "Whose car did you hit?"

Just then, the heavy office door of the captain's room swung open. Gideon Rothwell walked out, adjusting his pristine silver cuffs. His expression was bored and intimidating.

Vivienne stiffened immediately. She slowly turned her head to look at Harper, gnashing her teeth as she shot a lethal glare at her friend. "You’re really good at picking your victim, but why didn’t you kill him in the accident?" she muttered under her breath.

Harper shrank back into the plastic chair. "I didn't mean to! I was in a hurry!"

Forcing her posture to relax, Vivienne turned to face Gideon. She plastered a polite, fake smile on her face and approached him.

"The guarantor she gave the police is you?" Gideon asked, his dark gaze sweeping over them.

"Yes," Vivienne said smoothly. "This was my friend's fault. Let's follow the standard procedure, Mr. Rothwell. Please directly name your price for the compensation."

Gideon remained stone-faced, his eyes locking onto hers. "The compensation is unnecessary. After all, the car is going to be written off already," he stated flatly.

Vivienne dropped her smile, pointing out the damage in pure disbelief. "Written off? Was the crash that serious? Harper said it was merely a minor dent on the bumper."

Wyatt, Gideon's assistant, stepped forward from behind his boss with a knowing smirk. He explained smoothly, "Miss Kensington, Mr. Rothwell never repairs his cars. He does not do refurbishments. Even a single missing screw demands a brand-new replacement of the entire vehicle."

Realizing instantly that Gideon was using this exorbitant, ridiculous demand to subtly retaliate against her for her defiance in his office, Vivienne's expression darkened. "So," Vivienne said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "you want my friend to buy you a brand-new car over a dented bumper?"

Wyatt folded his hands. "That depends on the attitude you choose to emit to us at this very moment."

Vivienne stared at the billionaire standing in front of her. Harper tugged at the hem of Vivienne's coat, panicking. There was no way Harper could afford to replace a luxury vehicle out of pocket.

"Judging from your expression, Miss Kensington," Gideon said, his voice a low rumble, "are you not satisfied with the offer?"

Gideon stared back at her closely. Though he hadn't originally planned to force them to buy a new Maybach over a fender bender, her mere presence continued to stir an unfamiliar, impetuous energy within him. He was a man of strict logic and control, yet she consistently disrupted his calm. Heavily haunted by the lie Camilla had told him last night about Vivienne maliciously drugging her six years ago, he watched Vivienne coldly. He was intensely eager to see exactly what she would be willing to do and sacrifice for her so-called friend today. Would she shoulder the massive debt, or would she surrender?