Chapter 5

Vivian Laurent slammed the brakes after shaking off Ethan Roscente. Before she could speak, her driver was already vomiting outside the car.

"Miss, are you an F1 racer?" The driver leaned against the door, his face pale.

Vivian had indeed won twenty racing championships. She'd been banned for dominating too hard. But now wasn't the time for memories—Ethan's face occupied her mind.

He was back.

And he hadn't recognized her.

Her phone buzzed. Vivian answered. "Nathan."

"Little师妹, Ethan Roscente is looking for you. Says Sophia Evans is critically ill. Name your price."

Vivian's lips curled coldly. Of course it was for Sophia.

Sophia was Ethan's first love. He'd crashed his car chasing her, spent half a year in a wheelchair. Vivian had secretly healed him. On their wedding day, Ethan flew overseas to make Sophia a movie star.

"Little师妹?" Nathan pressed.

"No."

"Why?" The voice changed. Ethan's deep tone came through. "You just saved an emergency patient."

Vivian's voice turned glacial. "Two rules."

"What rules?"

"No Evans. No Roscentes."

Ethan paused. "You know me?"

"Mr. Roscente's mistress scandal is everywhere. Starring Sophia Evans, right?" Vivian sneered. "Sorry, I don't treat cheaters and homewreckers."

"She's not—"

"Save it." Vivian cut him off. "Time spent saving her could rescue ten dogs."

The dial tone left Ethan grimacing. He turned to Nathan Clementson. "Give me Dr. Luna's contact."

"Sorry." Nathan smiled. "My师妹 doesn't change her mind."

After Ethan left, Nathan called Vivian. "Come to the hospital. Your schedule."

Vivian considered. "Two weeks. I need a vacation."

"Perfect! I'll prepare your office!"

Meanwhile, Ethan called Felix Valdemar. "Find that woman from the bar."

"Isabella Langley's friend? That lunatic?" Felix whistled. "You're interested?"

"Just get results."

News of Vivian's return sent ripples through multiple industries. Fashion designer Amy and jewelry director Erin rushed to report. Only Lucas Lefèvre stood silently.

He was Vivian's adopted orphan.

"Boss," Lucas whispered. "The Dark Web bid hit nine figures. Ethan offered—"

"No."

One word. Final.