Page 24 of The Call She Made That He Never Answered
Vivian parked and twisted around from the driver's seat to stare at me. "Lucas won't say it to your face out of respect for Mr. Rockefeller, but don't you know how you got that position? You think after Mr. Rockefeller dies, you can keep lounging around the manor like a parasite?"
My mouth opened. My head buzzed—I hadn't expected her to be this vicious, to actually wish for Mr. Rockefeller's death! All my comebacks died on my tongue. I couldn't bring myself to fight with her using the old man's death as ammunition.
"Aren't you afraid Lucas will find out you say this?"
"Lucas?" Vivian tossed her gorgeous red hair, eyes sparkling. "Why would he be mad at me? He loves everything about me. The three days we spent together, he told me he loved me over and over..."
So it was true. They really had been together these three days. Seeing it in the paper versus hearing her admit it were two completely different impacts. The air in the car felt thin. I couldn't breathe.
"Oh, and there's something really interesting." Vivian paused, locking her eyes on mine. "Lucas never answers your calls. Never replies to your texts. Doesn't that hurt?"
The words hit like a sledgehammer. Stars exploded behind my eyes. I heard my own voice, hoarse and unrecognizable. "How... how do you know?"
"You called him dozens of times four days ago! Are you insane?" Vivian's lips curved into a smile. "And those texts you sent—all garbage! Asking what he wanted to eat, when he'd be home, saying grandfather missed him... Why'd you stop? Finally facing reality?"
Her voice grew shriller with each message she recited. My face burned hotter.
"Oh, honey," she waved her hand in front of my face, her tone dripping with pity, "woman to woman, I'm telling you to stop. You know what he said about you after we had sex? When he was lying in bed scrolling through those pathetic texts?"
I covered my ears instinctively, trembling. I didn't want to hear another word, but I could picture it—Lucas holding Vivian in bed, turning my care and attempts to please him into post-coital entertainment.
"Lucas was way harsher than me. You know how cruel he can be when he wants to." Vivian's tone softened, like she was savoring a memory. She shrugged at me. "Just give up. Ask for the divorce yourself. That way, it won't damage Mr. Rockefeller and Lucas's relationship. Knowing Lucas, he'll give you a generous settlement."
Tears threatened to spill, but I forced them back. I could cry in front of anyone except Vivian. I wouldn't give her another story to share with Lucas, another joke for them to laugh about.
Though I'd already become a joke...
Honestly, even if Vivian had shown me photos of her and Lucas in bed, I wouldn't feel this humiliated. At least that would prove Lucas wronged me. This was different. I'd offered my love to him on a platter, and he'd turned around and ground it into the mud just to entertain the woman he'd just fucked. This kind of mental torture—I absolutely could not take it.
And right now, one of the architects of this torture was watching my breakdown with superior eyes.
I suddenly hated them both. They could have just thrown divorce papers in my face. Instead, they chose this vicious way to humiliate me.
"Even if Lucas and I divorce, he'll never marry you." I ground my back teeth together, forcing out each word. "He's known you this long. If he really wanted to marry you, I wouldn't be here."
Vivian's expression changed instantly.
The truth always hits hardest.
"So what? I can still make Lucas come back to me again and again!" She snapped, her voice turning hysterical. "He loves it when I blow him. He says only my mouth can make him explode! In the two years we've worked together, we've fucked everywhere you can imagine... We're inseparable. We'll never forget each other. You think a piece of paper can change that?"
"Stop! Don't say another word!" I suddenly thought of my wedding night with Lucas. If every skilled move he made came from practice with Vivian, it made me sick.
Vivian didn't listen. Lost in her own world, she kept going: "Lucas doesn't like condoms. You know that, right? He likes it when I'm on top. He likes fucking me from behind because that way he can watch every detail of us screwing..."
"Enough!"
I let out a hysterical scream. Stomach acid surged up my throat. I was about to vomit right there.
Vivian didn't stop. She stared at me, eyes full of disgust. "Forget Lucas doesn't love you. Ask yourself, what normal man with any taste would want a woman who spends every day wiping down dying old men, who reeks of that smell you can never wash off?"
My brain went completely blank.
Vivian wanted to steal Lucas? Fine. She could have that cheating addict. But I would not tolerate her insulting my profession. It was my expertise, my only proof in this suffocating manor that I had value.
"You shameless bitch!" My voice echoed in the car, deafening. "I don't care what you and Lucas had before, but right now, I'm Mrs. Rockefeller! As long as I'm his wife, you're just a rat hiding in dark corners! You'll never be legitimate!"
Vivian's triumphant expression crumbled.
