Chapter 3: She Saved My Life

Reginald's POV

My face darkened as I realized the woman in the white dress was Vivian. But not just any white dress - it was the one I'd gotten Elena for our second anniversary.

"Reginald, you're back!" Vivian came running toward me, arms outstretched, seemingly oblivious to my darkening expression.

The dress didn't quite fit her, revealing much of her ample curves as she embraced me. "Miss me?"

Ignoring her flirtation, I changed the topic. "Why are you wearing Elena's clothes?" I kept my voice flat and controlled.

Vivian's laugh tinkled like crystal as she explained, "Oh, I spilled coffee on my outfit earlier. Had to borrow something." She sashayed toward me. "Your wife won't mind, will she? Or should I say... ex-wife?"

"Where is she?"

"No idea." Vivian shrugged. "Place was empty when I got here. The maid let me in - she knows me well enough by now, doesn't she?"

She reached for me, perfectly manicured nails trailing down my arm. "Reggie..."

I stepped back. "Take it off. It doesn't suit you."

"Come on, don't be so cold." She pouted. "I thought we could celebrate your newfound freedom. The papers are signed, aren't they?"

"How did you know about that?" I asked coldly.

Her smile faltered for just a fraction of a second. "Oh, please. Everyone knows you were headed for divorce. It was just a matter of time."

"Meet me at Eclipse Lounge tonight," I cut her off, done with this circus. "Get out."

"But Reggie-"

"Now, Vivian."

The second she was gone, I bolted upstairs. The master bedroom was a mess - the bed looked like someone had been rolling around in it. Not Elena's style at all. Her side of the closet was untouched though, all those designer pieces I'd bought her still hanging there. But the divorce papers from last night? Gone without a trace.

Something stank about this whole situation. I could feel it in my gut as I changed into a fresh suit, my mind racing.

Eclipse Lounge was packed when I walked in - trust fund brats throwing daddy's cash around, wannabe Instagram stars desperate for their next photo op, and the real sharks who ran this town from the shadows.

"Reginald!" Marcus waved me over to the VIP section. "About time you joined the land of the living again!"

"I've been swamped with work lately" I muttered, sliding into a seat.

He barked out a laugh, snapping for drinks. "Yeah right, like the mighty Vanderbilt empire needs you to lift a finger these days. But speaking of lifting things..." He leaned in close enough I could smell the bourbon on his breath. "Word on the street is you're finally kicking that gold-digger to the curb. 'Bout damn time, buddy."

My vision went red. "Watch your fucking mouth."

"What? It's not exactly breaking news that she only wanted your bank account. I mean, a Stewart?" He snorted. "Though I gotta give her folks credit - that whole drunk hookup setup? Pretty slick move."

Before I could respond, a ripple went through the crowd as Vivian walked in wearing a red dress. She moved through the crowd, greeting everyone with air kisses and fake smiles.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Marcus whistled. "A real queen for the Vanderbilt throne."

The usual crowd of kiss-asses swarmed her immediately. I could see her eating up every word.

"Vivian, that dress is absolutely divine!"

"Red is definitely your color, darling!"

"Indeed, not everyone can shine like Vivian - just look at a poor princess from Stewart. She's become the industry's running joke."

Vivian's laugh carried across the room. "Everyone, please! Let's not waste time discussing the past. We're here to celebrate new beginnings, right?" She shot me a look that made my skin crawl.

Marcus and James circled me like sharks. "So Reginald, when are you and Vivian making it official?" they asked with a wink.

"Yeah?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why are you hurry?"

Marcus's grin turned nasty. "Just saying, why settle for bottom-shelf when you can have top-shelf?"

I knocked back my drink, fighting the urge to deck him.

Suddenly Adam materialized next to me, his voice low and urgent. "Sir, one of our people spotted Mrs. Vanderbilt at JFK."

My heart stopped. "What?"

"Security footage matches her description, but we lost her at international terminal."

"Keep me posted." I said before Adam nodded and left. Elena at the airport? The missing papers?

At this moment, Marcus called everyone to gather into a circle for a game, pulling me back from my thoughts. "Truth or dare time! No chickening out, Reg!"

"What are we, in high school?" I grumbled, but let myself get dragged into their stupid game.

After a few rounds, the bottle's neck pointed right at me.

Some drunk socialite giggled. "Reggie's turn! Truth or dare?"

"Truth." Let's get this over with.

"How did you and Vivian really meet? There's like, so many stories going around..."

The memory hit me like a punch to the gut. Fifteen years ago. The taste of fear. The sound of my own screams echoing off concrete walls.

"She saved my life," I said flatly. "Kidnapping attempt when I was twelve. She helped me escape."

"OMG, that's like, so dramatic!" The socialite was practically swooning. "Just like a movie!"

"Speaking of movies," Marcus piped up, "Vivian, what's this Oscar buzz I'm hearing about?"

But I was barely listening. Something about that kidnapping memory felt... off. Like trying to recall a dream that keeps slipping away. The details were fuzzy, distorted. I remembered being terrified, remembered running through dark corridors, but Vivian's face in those memories... it seemed somehow wrong, like a badly edited photo.

Next thing I knew, Vivian was all over me. Catching my distant expression, she tried to pull my attention back to her. "Take me home?" she murmured, breath warm against my ear.

I barely remember nodding, my mind still churning over Elena at the airport. The memory of that crash kept flickering through my head too - something wasn't adding up, but I couldn't put my finger on what.

The car ride was dead silent. Suffocating.

Vivian kept shooting me these little sideways glances, her perfect smile getting tighter each time I ignored her attempts at small talk.

"Come up for a drink?" Vivian's voice jolted me back to reality as we pulled up to her place. She was drawing circles on my chest with those talons of hers, but all I could think about was how Elena would always trace hearts there instead.

I was just about to tell her where she could stick that drink when my phone exploded with an incoming call. Grandpa's voice ripped through the speaker: "YOU IDIOT! What's this bullshit about a divorce?"