She couldn’t let Broad find out.
The thought exploded in Vivienne’s mind like a thunderclap. Her heart raced wildly, and without thinking, she lunged forward and delivered a fierce kick to Fiona. Her voice was sharp and furious.
“It was you! You almost killed Winnie! How dare you?”
Vivienne’s eyes were bloodshot, resembling a beast that had lost control. She raised her foot, intending to kick Fiona again, desperate to silence her completely.
But just as her foot lifted, a powerful hand seized her wrist.
It was Broad.
His grip was like iron, and Vivienne winced in pain.
“Let her speak.”
Vivienne froze, her body stiff, unable to move.
Fiona lay curled on the ground, her body wracked with pain. She coughed weakly, her voice trembling with both anger and exhaustion.
“Why are you doing this to me? You promised me! You said if I helped you kidnap Winnie, you’d pay me! And now you’re blaming everything on me!”
Each word Fiona uttered felt like a knife, stabbing straight into Vivienne’s heart. Her face turned pale, her throat dry, and she struggled to breathe.
“Thank your new wife,” Miranda said coldly, casting Broad an icy glance before bending down to pick up Winnie.
“She almost got our daughter killed.”
“Come on, sweetheart, let’s go home.”
“I’ll drive you,” Eric offered, stepping forward. As he passed Broad, he added, almost casually, “Don’t forget to call the police.”
The tone was laced with biting sarcasm.
Broad said nothing, his piercing black eyes cold as ice, fixed squarely on Vivienne.
Once Miranda and Eric had left, Broad finally spoke, his voice low and dangerous.
“Vivienne.”
Hearing her name, Vivienne shuddered as if a venomous snake had set its sights on her.
“Explain.”
Broad’s words were curt, cutting through the air like a blade.
Vivienne’s voice trembled as she spoke quickly, desperate to defend herself.
“I didn’t mean to hurt Winnie. I just wanted to teach Miranda a lesson!”
“Liar!” Broad’s furious voice cut her off, his eyes blazing with anger.
“I’m not lying!” Vivienne was on the verge of collapse, her voice breaking into sobs. “Tony refused to cooperate with our shoot because Miranda told him not to!”
“And that gives you the right to use my daughter?”
Broad’s voice rose, each word dripping with contempt. His gaze was filled with undisguised disgust.
“If you ever touch her again, I’ll personally send you to prison.”
“I won’t. I swear I won’t,” Vivienne stammered, lowering her head, her voice trembling with fear.
Broad didn’t spare her another glance. He loosened his tie in irritation, his thoughts a chaotic mess.
He wasn’t sure what angered him more-Vivienne’s foolishness or the constant presence of another man orbiting Miranda.
Doubt crept into his mind. Who exactly was Miranda?
Eric Wilson had publicly announced her as his girlfriend. And now Tony Clark had willingly sabotaged a collaboration for her sake.
How could an ordinary divorced woman know so many high-status men?
Broad’s thoughts tangled like a knotted string. Frustrated, he decided to call his private investigator, Lauren, the next day to check on the progress of her investigation.
Narrowing his eyes, his expression darkened. Because of what happened to Winnie, his already strained relationship with Miranda would only worsen. He couldn’t shake the fear that the court might grant Miranda full custody of Winnie.
And with his company’s internal struggles, Broad had little time to focus on repairing his bond with his daughter.
—
The next morning, Winnie woke up in Miranda’s warm bed. The smell of toasted bread wafted into her nose.
She slipped on her slippers and walked into the kitchen, where Miranda stood, slicing tomatoes.
“Sweetheart, Mommy made your favorite sandwich!”
Miranda’s voice was tender as she leaned down to press a good-morning kiss on Winnie’s forehead. Winnie rubbed her eyes and smiled sweetly.
“Thank you, Mommy! The sandwich smells so good!”
After washing up, Winnie sat at the dining table, happily munching on her breakfast.
But Miranda’s face showed signs of weariness. She hadn’t slept well the night before. She knew Winnie was old enough to sense things. There was no hiding her and Broad’s situation from her any longer.
She had spent the night wondering how to explain everything to her daughter.
Winnie, sensitive as ever, noticed Miranda’s unease. She put down her sandwich and asked cautiously, “Mommy, do you want to talk to me about something?”
Miranda nodded, her tone gentle but heavy.
“Yes, sweetheart. I think it’s time we talked about… your dad and me.”
Winnie looked down, silent for a moment, her fingers playing absentmindedly with a napkin.
“Mommy, I already guessed,” she said softly.
Miranda’s heart clenched, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. Winnie had spent much of her childhood in boarding schools abroad, and Miranda’s guilt over her absence weighed heavily.
Taking a deep breath, Miranda steadied herself and spoke, her voice filled with regret.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. It’s all Mommy’s fault.”
“Mommy, I don’t blame you,” Winnie said, trying to comfort her.
Miranda leaned over and kissed Winnie’s cheek, hesitating before asking the question that gnawed at her.
“If your dad and I aren’t together anymore… who would you want to live with?”
The question was too much for a six-year-old to handle. Tears quickly filled Winnie’s eyes as she choked out, “I don’t know.”
Miranda immediately pulled her daughter into her arms, gently patting her back.
“No matter what happens, always remember that Mommy loves you. Always, my baby.”
Winnie nodded, burying her face in Miranda’s shoulder, her small body trembling with quiet sobs.
After breakfast, Winnie seemed to recover a bit. She asked if she could go to the study to draw.
Miranda smiled and ran her fingers lovingly through Winnie’s hair.
“Of course, sweetheart. Let me know if you need anything.”
As Miranda loaded the dishes into the dishwasher, her phone rang. It was Eric.
“Hey, are you okay?” Eric’s voice was low, filled with concern.
“I’m fine. Just trying to sort some things out,” Miranda replied.
“How’s Winnie?”
Miranda sighed. “She knows about the divorce. It’ll take time for her to process it.”
On the other end of the line, Eric was silent for a few moments. Sitting in his office chair, his gaze fell on a date circled in red on his calendar, marked: Visit Mom and Dad.
After a brief hesitation, he spoke.
“There’s something I’d like to ask you…”
“Go ahead,” Miranda replied.
“My parents… they’ve been pressuring me to settle down. I promised them I’d bring my girlfriend to dinner this Saturday. Just dinner, I swear.”
Eric’s heartbeat quickened as he gripped the phone tightly, anxiously awaiting her response.
There was a pause on the line. The silence stretched, feeling like an eternity.
“Alright. What time?” Miranda’s soft voice finally came through.