Beckett frowned upon hearing Vivianne mention the name. Suddenly, his body went stiff as images of Tristan beaten up and killed lingered in his mind.
He had been trying to push those thoughts out of his mind earlier, but here was Vivianne, reminding him again.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Beckett said, his jaw tensing. "So, is that it? That's the reason why you're acting cranky all day? You're not thinking about the kiss?"
"No." Vivianne rolled her eyes before looking away. She could feel her cheeks flushing, so she quickly composed herself. "And why do you keep mentioning the kiss, huh? Can't you forget about it?"
"Nope." Beckett leaned forward, narrowing the distance between them. "Never."
Nor did he have any plans to forget it.
"I-I don't know about you."
Vivianne cleared her throat to divert Beckett's attention, but it was a wrong move. As she looked away, Beckett's gaze focused on her lips.
His gaze grew darker as he licked his lower lip. It seemed like he wanted to kiss her again, and Vivianne felt annoyed because she was starting to be affected by Beckett's actions.
"Get a grip, Vivianne! This isn't the reason why you confronted him!" Vivianne scolded herself internally.
But she couldn't help it. She remembered how it felt when Beckett kissed her, as if their lips were connected now. It was sweet, seductive, and dangerous.
Especially now that she was slowly doubting Beckett's true identity, even in what he did to Tristan.
"Do you still love him?"
"Huh?" Vivianne blinked her eyes twice and frowned afterward. She didn't expect Beckett to suddenly ask her that.
"Tristan Estefan." Beckett emphasized the name. "Do you still love him?"
"Why do you know his name?"
Vivianne had even more reason to doubt. For someone rich, popular, and influential like Beckett, it was surprising that he knew an ordinary guy like Tristan.
Tristan is also a businessman, but compared to big corporations, he was just an ordinary guy. That's what Vivianne wanted to know... the relationship between Beckett and Tristan.
"Answer my question first, and I'll answer yours," Beckett said in an authoritative tone.
Beckett and Vivianne locked eyes. It seemed like there was an invisible tension that ignited as their gaze intensified. Both of them were investigating each other.
"No. He's an ex for a reason, and I don't know why it seems like you're investigating my love life," Vivianne replied, causing Beckett to raise an eyebrow. "Now, answer my question."
"He's an old friend." Beckett shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. "If you're his ex, you should know he was an aspiring model."
"Yeah. And I know he uses drugs and has a favorite drug den."
Beckett's playful smirk immediately faded as his expression turned serious. He didn't expect Vivianne to know about Tristan being a drug user.
"Yet you still decided to be with him?" Beckett looked at Vivianne with disdain.
"I found out about that after we broke up," Vivianne replied. There was determination in her voice. "But that's not the only thing I found out. He died early in the morning. Some thugs attacked him."
"Condolences, then," Beckett uttered with a cold tone. "I worried about you for nothing. I thought you were avoiding me."
His hands clenched into fists inside his pocket. He didn't like where the conversation was going, especially with the weight and implications behind Vivianne's every word.
Beckett was genuinely worried that Vivianne took the kiss personally. He was ready to take responsibility for that kiss if necessary.
But now that he knew the real reason why Vivianne was acting this way, he felt like he wanted to double dead her ex-boyfriend.
"You don't need to worry about me. Take care of yourself." Vivianne clicked her tongue and crossed her arms. "Tristan may be my ex-boyfriend and a jerk, but he didn't deserve to be killed. No one did."
"Woman... Are you trying to imply something?"
Beckett couldn't resist asking. He had been hearing that peculiar tone from her for a while now. Suddenly, he leaned Vivianne against the wall and placed his hands on her sides, preventing her from escaping.
"Do you think I have something to imply?" Vivianne's lips curved upward. "That's up to you. I'm not saying anything specific, but you're already jumping to conclusions."
"Sir Beckett, we're ready for the shoot—Oh! Is there a kissing scene happening?!" one of the flamboyant photographers shouted upon seeing Beckett and Vivianne's current position.
Beckett would have been more than happy with their position right now if he wasn't pissed off. He didn't react and simply moved away from their proximity with Vivianne, returning to the studio as if nothing happened.
"What just happened?" the photographer asked Vivianne as their gaze met.
"Nothing," Vivianne replied with a simple shake of her head. "He just asked me something."
"In that position? Wow, I wish someone would ask me like that!" The photographer grinned and seemed like he wanted to say more, but he was called by the director. "Bye! I'll catch up with you later, girlie!"
Vivianne just sighed and waited for everyone to enter the studio, except for her. Her work there was already finished, so she didn't need to follow right away.
'Shit.' Vivianne leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. 'What kind of dirt is he hiding?'
Suddenly, her mind went back to what happened yesterday at the Allamino Mansion when Alfred called her.
"Vianne," Alfred said, pointing to the seat next to him. "Sit. We need to talk."
Vivianne immediately complied, although she was slightly irritated that her father seemed to enjoy calling her by that nickname.
That nickname was exclusive to her mother. Only her mother should call her Vianne. Her mother was the only one who treated her like family, while Alfred only saw her as an heir.
"This is about inheritance again, isn't it?" the woman asked coldly. "I'll cut off my finger if I'm wrong."
"You know that we're running out of time."
"I don't care about your business, Dad. I'm not interested." Vivianne crossed her arms and leaned back on the couch. "Our business is doing fine. Let go of those illegal activities if—"
Vivianne couldn't finish her sentence as her father suddenly had his hand around her throat. It was Alfred.
"That illegal business was more important than your life, my child. Watch your words," Alfred said before releasing Vivianne.
Vivianne was astounded and speechless. It was only seconds of strangulation, but it was already painful. She felt like she couldn't breathe in that short moment.
"There's only one reason why I allowed you to work outside, and that is to find the bastard who betrayed our family."
Five years ago, Alfred invested almost fifteen million in a company called Matinee on Bench. They claimed to be a clothing company targeting a male audience specifically, but they weren't.
After obtaining enough funds from Alfred, it disappeared like a bubble. That fifteen million pesos were just coins to Alfred now, but he wanted to regain his pride.
Until now, he couldn't accept that someone had betrayed him like that.
Vivianne sighed in frustration. "That company doesn't exist anymore. It's been gone for a long time. How can I find it?" She placed her hand on her head and gently pulled her hair. "Can't you just let it go? You're already wealthy."
"It's not possible." Alfred shook his head and clenched his fists. "I need to kill those bastards. This is what happens to people who cross our path, Vianne... You should learn this too."
'Goodness.' Vivianne's head started to ache from what she heard.
For her, this conversation was like mental torture. Her world, full of sunshine and light, clashed with her family, who were accustomed to guns and violence since she was a child.
"Fine. Fine." Vivianne nodded to end the conversation. "I just need to find the former CEO of Matinee on Bench and bring him to you, right? Then I'll run the company—legally."
"Vivianne." Her father's voice sounded like a warning.
"Papa." Vivianne reciprocated the same tone. "Our conversation is only about the company and the man who wronged you. You can't add anything more."
Vivianne stood up, her desire to end the conversation overcoming her fear. "And please, don't use Mama as leverage for me to do my job. I know you don't love us, but we're still human beings. We have our own lives."
Those were Vivianne's last words before she left the room. Alfred wanted to call her back, but he chose to remain silent. He knew that even though Vivianne may act like a rebel now, she couldn't truly fight against him.
And even if it went against her will, Vivianne would do what her father wanted.
Alfred was right, though. Even though she was on the verge of tears, Vivianne tried to calm herself down. It was late at night, and she needed to go home.
While driving to her condo, Vivianne's phone suddenly rang. She almost didn't answer it as she was lost in thought. After a few rings, she finally snapped back to reality.
"You took so long to answer!" Lily, one of her police friends, complained. "It's an emergency! There's something you need to know."
"What is it? A new guy in your life?" Vivianne impatiently asked. It was still early in the morning, and Lily was calling her right away.
"I'm on duty, silly!" Lily rolled her eyes. "But here it is, an emergency. Tristan... He's dead."
Vivianne involuntarily pressed down on the pedal. If there was traffic now, she would surely lose her temper. "What?"
She couldn't believe what she heard. She hadn't even told a few friends yet that she and Tristan had broken up, but that wasn't important right now. Tristan may be her ex, but she didn't expect him to die so soon.
"I sent you a picture. Take a look," Lily instructed, and Vivianne immediately followed. She put the phone on loudspeaker so she could still hear her friend.
Vivianne's eyes widened as she saw the picture of Tristan. His upper body was bare, covered in numerous wounds. It was evident that he had been severely beaten and tortured before he died.
"Damn, right? It's so brutal—"
"Wait, Lil," Vivianne interrupted as her eyes narrowed. "Can you take another picture of Tristan? And bring it closer to his face?" She added the instructions upon noticing something.