Larissa Judson and Haskell Palmer novel Chapter 719

“Madam Vivica, do you have an invitation? I cannot let you in without one,” the butler replied, following Neville’s instructions.

Vivica pointed past him, her voice arrogant. “My husband and my sons are in there! Why would I need an invitation?”

The butler, keeping his walkie-talkie open so Neville could hear, responded calmly, “That is a question you should be asking yourself. Why is it that your husband and sons received invitations from the young miss, but you did not?”

“Because I wasn’t home!” Vivica retorted.

That was a lie. After Nightveil had let her go, she had considered finding Paxton and Leopold at their apartment. But as she approached, she heard them inside, excitedly discussing Larissa’s party, not once mentioning her or wondering where she had been. Fearing she would give herself away, she had left and spent the night at her parents’ house, where she endured their usual barrage of scorn and criticism.

“Regardless of where you were, you cannot enter,” the butler said firmly before deliberately turning and walking away with his staff. Mr. Judson had said to let her in, but not yet. He would wait until the guests had nearly finished eating.

“Clang!”

Vivica kicked the iron gate in frustration. “You bastard! I am still a lady of the Judson family! Just you wait. When my husband is back in charge, you’ll be the first one I deal with!”

Nearby, one of Lucius’s men watched the scene unfold and reported back. “Vivica can’t get in.”

At Neverending Night, the assistant relayed the message. “No rush. Let her wait outside. There will be a little incident after the guests have eaten. Use the ensuing chaos to create an opportunity for her to get inside.”

“Larissa,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, “we’ve never given you a birthday present before, and we didn’t know what to get you. So, each of us took turns praying for you at the village’s sacred chapel. This is a protective talisman. We hope it brings you peace, fortune, and happiness in the years to come.”

…

“Hah! Just as I thought,” Honora sneered as she watched the villagers present their gift. “So cheap. A worthless talisman is all they could come up with.”

Her bruised ego was suddenly soothed. All that fanfare for such a pathetic little trinket. When she had her birthdays, Finley and Leopold gave her limited-edition bags, designer clothes, and fine jewelry.