Chaos Girl Rewrites the Script novel Chapter 536

Yesterday's rain had officially drawn the curtain on early winter. The temperature plummeted, replacing thin cardigans with heavy winter coats.

"Crap, I overslept."

Vivienne exhaled a puff of white mist as she stepped out of the Obsidian Estate. She hadn't held out much hope, but to her surprise, a black sedan was parked right outside the gates.

Wesley Crain stepped out to open the door, his movements growing more textbook by the day. "Princess, your carriage awaits."

A thin layer of frost coated the car windows. Who knew how long they had been waiting?

Vivienne cast a brief look and slipped inside the vehicle.

The heater was blasting, filling the cabin with a faint, crisp, woody scent.

When she left the house, Marissa had worried she would be cold and forced her into two coats. Vivienne had already taken one off but still felt overheated. She wanted to remove the second, but it was hard to maneuver with the first coat draped over her arm.

Just then, a large hand reached over and effortlessly lifted the garments from her grasp.

Vivienne paused, looking directly at the young man beside her.

Alaric Ravenshire folded the coats and draped them over his arm. It was the simplest of actions, yet he made it look incredibly elegant.

Vivienne narrowed her eyes, instantly on high alert.

He was up to no good. Unwarranted flattery always hid malicious intent.

Alaric considered his words. "You..."

"Stop right there!" Vivienne threw up a hand to cut him off. "Don't even think about it. I'm not going to beg Grandpa for leniency on your behalf. A loss is a loss. Deal with it."

Alaric fell silent for a second before trying again. "I..."

Vivienne completely ignored him, talking over him. "I suggest you take a page out of Cyril's book. Look at how gracefully he walked away. Sure, he's a loser too, but at least he's got style."

Having said her piece, she began a mental countdown.

Three, two, one.

Cue the blow-up.

But the reality was completely the opposite. Alaric's expression remained perfectly neutral, without a single trace of anger on his face.

He even calmly asked her, "How do you know Cyril accepted defeat gracefully? Do you know him that well?"

Vivienne instantly remembered his wildly fluctuating palpitation meter. A lightbulb went off in her head. She sneakily opened her phone, pulled up one of her few pinned chats, and tapped the voice memo button.

"Ahem..." She cleared her throat, speaking with dramatic conviction. "Of course I know him! At Lara Arlington's press conference, Cyril was the only one who cared enough to speak up for women. A gentle, kindhearted guy like him couldn't care less about fame or fortune. He's nothing like the rest of you!!!"

Send.

Alaric's face slowly turned to ice.

Now he was genuinely angry.

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