Chapter 7
As Jon brought the car to a halt infront of the Villa house, a sense of trepidation washed over him. Vivian had been residing within its walls for the past month, and he had been tasked with escorting her to Henry's resident.
He stepped out of the car the warm sunlight casting a golden glow over the scene. The villa looked before him , it's silence a stark contrast to the chaos that had once reigned supreme.
He pushed open the front door, the soft creak of the hinges echoing through the stillness. The air inside was redolent with the sweet scent of lavender, a calming influence that did little to alleviate his growing unease.
He called out, his voice ringing through the empty halls. "Ms. Albert?" The only response was the oppressive silence.
A month ago, the situation had been fraught with tension, the paparazzi swarming like vultures, eager to capture a glimpse of Vivian and Lily. But now, the frenzy had died down, and semblance of normalcy had returned.
He began to search the house, his footsteps echoing off the walls as he made his way from room to room. The kitchen and bathroom were deserted, but it wasn't until he reached the swimming pool that he finally found Vivian.
Vivian was lounging on a bench, her bikini a vibrant splash of colors against the duller tones of the surroundings. Her eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, and her face was a mask of relaxation. He felt the surge of relief, his hands relaxing on his waist, she hadn't left the house after all.
As he approached her, his footsteps seemed to echo louder, but Vivian didn't flinch, her eyes remaining closed.
"Ms. Albert?" He said, his voice softer now.
She stirred her voice languid. "Mhm, Jon. What is it?"
Jon felt a twinge of frustration knowing that he had wasted precious time searching for her while she lounged by the pool.
Vivian's eyes snapped open, and she sat up, her movements fluid. "I wonder what dragged you here." She said, her voice tinged with annoyance. "You guys left here for a week without visiting me. I thought you'd forgotten me. And Henry, he hadn't called either"
Vivian's words were laced with sense of hurt , but Jon knew better. The Vivian he knew was a master manipulator and her words were calculated to elicit a response.
He smirked, his eyes never leaving hers.
"It's not like I don't know about what's happening outside in the world" she continued, her voice dripping with sweetness. "It's all over the news, social media. I certainly like the way he's handling Lily's family "
"Mr. Peterson has asked me to explain the situation he's experiencing," Jon said, his voice neutral. "There is alot of pressure coming in his way, and he has to neglect you for now"
Vivian's face fell, but quickly recovered a calculating glint in her eyes. "I am aware of that" she said , voice measured.
"Certainly, Mr. Peterson does care for you very much. That's why he's ordered me to bring you back home, now that the paparazzi have quieted down" he explained.
Vivian's eyes sparkled with excitement and she sat up straight her movement fluid.
"You're serious ?" She asked, her voice filled with hope.
Jon nodded and then she chuckled happily, standing up from the bench. Without saying another word she walked to the house to change.
Jon was left my the pool feeling mixture of emotions.
'How had things gotten so messed up?' He thought.
As he stood there, lost in thought. He couldn't help but wonder when the game had turned upside down. When had Vivian become the victim and Lily the culprit? It didn't add up.
Lily was sweet woman kind and gentle, who valued even the life of a cockroach. So why would she want to kill Vivian? When she could have easily divorced Henry and moved on with her life?
Jon sat in the car, waiting for Vivian to emerge, his mind wandering back to the tangled web of deceit that had been spun. He knew it all—every sordid detail, every clandestine meeting, every whispered promise.
And Lily knew too; Jon had made sure of that. Yet, neither of them had done anything to stop it. Why had they stood idly by, watching as Henry and Vivian's affair unfolded like a Greek tragedy?
Jon understood that he was just an employee, and Henry was his employer, but his allegiance had always lain with Lily. She was a paragon of virtue, a woman of uncommon kindness and compassion, and Jon had always felt a deep sense of loyalty to her. He was the one who had provided her with the clues, who had orchestrated the revelation of Henry's infidelity. Jon had wanted her to see the truth, to understand the nature of the man she had married.
But then, tragedy had struck. Lily, the woman Jon had admired and respected, had been accused of attempting to kill Vivian. It was a preposterous notion, one that Jon couldn't wrap his head around. Lily was a gentle soul, a woman who valued all life, no matter how insignificant. Why would she want to harm Vivian?
As Jon waited for Vivian to emerge, he couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration. She walked out of the house, looking every inch the elegant mistress, and Jon felt a twinge of annoyance. They drove in silence, the only sound being the soft hum of the engine. Every time Jon glanced at Vivian in the mirror, she was smiling, her eyes fixed on her phone.
As they approached the new house, Vivian spoke up, her voice firm. "Jon, I think you're going the wrong way. This isn't the way to the house." Jon smirked.
"We're not going to the old house, ma'am. Mr. Peterson recently purchased a new one." Vivian's face fell, shock written all over her features.
"What do you mean the old house is sold?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
Jon chuckled to himself, enjoying her reaction. "Yes, ma'am. Mr. Peterson sold the house a few weeks ago. Someone bought it immediately." Vivian's eyes narrowed, her voice laced with frustration.
"What? Why would he sell such a big and beautiful house?" Jon shrugged, knowing that he wasn't at liberty to disclose that information.
They arrived at the new house, a beautiful mansion with a new environment and neighbors. Jon parked the car, and they entered the house, Vivian's eyes scanning the new surroundings with interest.
As Jon watched, Vivian stepped into the house, her eyes widening in astonishment. The entire space was transformed into a veritable fairy tale, with rose petals and balloons strewn about, a palpable effort by Henry to make her feel welcome. Vivian's gaze followed the trail of rose petals to the dining area, where Henry was busy concocting a culinary masterpiece. The setting sun cast a warm, golden glow through the glass windows, imbuing the scene with an air of romance.
Henry's face lit up with unbridled joy as he beheld Vivian, and he promptly dropped what he was doing to envelop her in a warm embrace. Jon discreetly turned away, granting them a moment of intimacy, but his gaze lingered, and he couldn't help but notice the way Henry's eyes sparkled with adoration when he looked at Vivian. It was almost... sincere.
As Jon turned back, Henry was holding Vivian by the waist, and they were gazing at the feast he had prepared. "I made your favorite dish," Henry declared, his voice replete with excitement.
"Jon, could you bring the dish on the counter?" Henry ordered, his voice firm but polite.
Jon nodded reluctantly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he made his way to the kitchen counter. He retrieved the dish from the bowl and carried it back to the table, where Vivian was waiting with bated breath.
As Jon reached the table, Vivian began to speak, her voice laced with curiosity.
"Henry, will this house be our new home?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Henry's face lit up with a warm smile as he took her hands in his. "You'll figure it out," he said, his voice filled with affection. "Yes, I recently purchased this house. I hope you'll love it here."
Vivian's grin faltered for a moment, and Jon caught a glimpse of something else in her eyes - a flicker of uncertainty, perhaps, or a hint of trepidation. But it was quickly replaced by a bright, radiant smile.
"It's beautiful," she cooed, "but what happened to the other house? I heard you sold it, but I don't understand why."
Henry's expression tensed, and he pulled his chair closer to Vivian, his hands still clasped around hers. "I thought living in that house after what happened could cause a major mental setback and trigger memories of that night," he explained, his voice low and soothing. "Getting rid of that house is like getting rid of Lily forever, erasing her from our memories."
Vivian's eyes welled up with tears, and she smiled, her voice barely above a whisper. "I love it. I feel really emotional right now... and speechless."
Jon smirked to himself, his eyes rolling in skepticism. He knew Vivian was lying - she wasn't speechless, she was just shocked at losing the house. Henry turned to him, his face calm and composed.
"You're done for the day, Jon. You can leave. See you tomorrow." Jon nodded, his voice neutral.
"Have a wonderful day, Mr. Peterson. Me, Albert." With that, he turned and left the house, passing through the gardens and out the gates.
As he walked, Jon sighed, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He was done for the day. After a few minutes of walking, he paused, removing his car keys from his pocket and pressing the button to unlock his vehicle. The car beeped in response, and Jon walked over to the parked Rolls-Royce, feeling a sense of freedom and release as he slid into the driver's seat.
He started the engine and began to drive, feeling the music and the wind in his hair. After a while, he entered a parking lot outside an apartment building, his heart pounding with anticipation. He got out of the car and entered the building, taking the elevator to the ninth floor. On the ninth floor, he walked a few steps until he reached a certain room, where he rang the bell.
The door opened, and a woman stood before him, her face puzzled, her green eyes sparkling with surprise. She looked beautiful and charming, as always. She was still dressed in her office clothes, her reporter ID card hanging from her neck, a testament to her long day at work. Jon's eyes scanned the card, reading the name emblazoned on it—Catherine Kennington.
He smirked at her, feeling a surge of excitement wash over him. "Why are you..." she began,
but before she could finish, he leaned in and kissed her, pushing her gently inside and closing the door behind them.
He pinned her against the wall, kissing her deeply, his hands roaming over her waist and soft skin. She gasped, her eyes flashing with affection, her green eyes sparkling with desire.
Jon's voice came low, husky with emotion. "Should I leave?"
Catherine glared at him, her eyes narrowing in mock annoyance. "Do you really have to spoil my mood?" she muttered furiously.
Jon chuckled, his head dipping to her shoulder, and then back to her face, his lips tracing a path of kisses down her cheeks, nose, and neck. She moaned, her body melting into his.
Without another word, Jon swept Catherine off her feet, carrying her to the bedroom, the door closing softly behind them.