Vivian
The silence after the call did not feel empty.
It felt awakened.
Sebastian still held the phone in his hand, but his attention was no longer on the device. His focus had shifted inward — calculating, connecting, predicting.
Mrs. Elara Montclair stood motionless near the center of the room, one hand pressed against her chest as if steadying something fragile inside her.
I could hear my own heartbeat.
Loud.
Unavoidable.
"Say it," I whispered. "Please… someone say something."
Sebastian inhaled slowly before speaking.
"That number," he said, voice controlled, "sent the same message to me."
Mrs. Elara looked up sharply. "You received it too?"
He turned the screen toward her. "Identical wording. Identical timing."
Her composure cracked visibly.
"They contacted me less than an hour ago," she said, her voice strained. "A warning. They said Vivian is not mine to give in marriage. That I must not interfere with what has already been decided."
