Page 53 of The Call She Made That He Never Answered
She opened it in her robe, startled to see me.
"Mrs. Hughes," I demanded. "Has anyone been in Ella's and my bedroom recently?"
My sudden hostility alarmed her. She shook her head quickly. "No, sir. Since you ordered no one to enter, I've even kept the dusting maids away. No one would dare disturb it."
"Think harder." My voice dropped. "Someone was definitely in there."
Mrs. Hughes looked genuinely frightened. She turned her eyes, thinking hard. Her memory took time—she was getting older. Finally, she muttered, "If I had to name a suspect... There is one person."
"Who?" The word ground through my teeth.
"Miss Vivian." Mrs. Hughes actually rolled her eyes at me. "You invited her that day, sir."
My heart lurched. I wasn't even surprised. "What did she do?"
"She said she needed the bathroom, then vanished. I waited forever before she came running downstairs looking panicked. I asked where she'd been. She just said she got lost..." Mrs. Hughes pursed her lips with old-school housekeeper disdain. "She was your guest. I didn't feel I could say more."
After Mrs. Hughes spoke, the tangled mess in my head suddenly straightened out. She had no reason to lie. She'd always been a loyal outsider.
As for Vivian...
I'd never imagined my chief assistant, someone I'd trusted completely, would sneak into my private quarters like a rat and spy on my most intimate business.
I started reevaluating our relationship. Had I really gotten too close to Vivian? As chief assistant, she needed to be around me constantly, but I suddenly realized that because of that professional proximity, I'd grown numb to her boundary violations.
Now it hit me: if Vivian had seen that agreement, the "rumor source" was obvious. This betrayal shocked me. I started wondering how much wrong information I'd given her, how much I'd enabled her, to make her think she had any right to meddle in my private life.
What unsettled me more: whether it was Grandfather's bizarre accusations or Maya's talk of "misunderstandings," every time my marriage with Ella hit a breaking point, Vivian's shadow lurked nearby. Sure, I had no proof she'd played any ugly role. Maybe she was just doing her job. But these "coincidences" had piled up too high to ignore.
A chill crawled up my spine. The violation made me sick. Vivian was the strongest on my assistant team, but right now, professional competence meant nothing against my boundaries. I'd wrongly prioritized work efficiency. Reality had slapped me hard. My life was a disaster. I'd rather spend massive resources and invest endless time training someone new than tolerate someone who'd lost all sense of boundaries, who might be spying on my life, staying near me.
Starting now, I would never let this woman in my sight again.
"Revoke all of Vivian's access privileges. Notify security—she's permanently banned from Rockefeller Manor."
Mrs. Hughes's spine straightened. She looked genuinely pleased by this decision.
"Yes, sir."
First thingat the office next morning, I summoned Vivian through the intercom.
The door opened. I felt like I was seeing this woman clearly for the first time. Perfect makeup, smile sweet as industrial syrup. Her top shirt button was undone. When she leaned forward across from me, her cleavage showed beneath her blouse. She looked confident, proud, chin tilted up to expose her long neck. Apparently, her most seductive angle.
I'd never noticed Vivian's behavior before. Maybe because since adulthood, I'd been surrounded by calculated flattery. I'd grown used to women's little tricks for attention—the accidental touches, the perfectly timed head tilts, the worship disguised as business. Background noise I'd learned to completely ignore.
Only now, stripping away the filter of Vivian's professional competence, viewing her coldly as an outsider, did I see how aggressive her presentation was. Realizing I'd let a woman constantly probing for openings, trying to seduce me, stay this close for so long made nausea rise from my stomach.
"Why spread rumors?" I cut straight to it. Not one wasted word.
Vivian's smile froze, but quickly returned.
"Lucas, what are you talking about? Do you want coffee? The usual today?"
"Vivian," my voice dropped. "Don't waste my time."
Vivian blinked. She bit her lip hard, tears gathering in her eyes like she'd suffered some terrible injustice.
"It was a slip-up when I was drunk," she choked out. "You've been in such bad shape lately, and I couldn't see Ella at the manor, so I just... I just guessed..."
