"Another time," Silas said, turning on his heel to leave.
He had arrived braving the snow, and now he left into the same bitter storm. He took nothing with him but the freezing chill in the air.
At that exact moment, from a hidden corner outside the window, the rapid click of a camera shutter sounded.
The photographer was the private investigator hired by Vivienne Sinclair. When he sent the photos to Vivienne, she literally screamed in fury.
If it had only been a suspicion before, seeing the photographic proof with her own eyes made her feel like the sky was falling. She was consumed by a suffocating wave of anger and hatred.
In the pictures, Julian and Willow were standing incredibly close. He was holding her wrist, and the scene looked undeniably intimate.
Vivienne never expected that he would actually go find Willow! And to take her out to dinner at a place like this!
What the hell was the meaning of this? Was he suddenly interested in her again?
But he had explicitly promised her that he would take responsibility for her and Toby, and that she was the only woman he would ever love.
Vivienne couldn't accept it. She absolutely refused to. After pacing in circles, she firmly pinned all the blame back onto Willow.
It had to be her. That bitch must be seducing Julian.
Acting all high and mighty to her face, but shamelessly clinging to Julian behind closed doors. It seemed she had severely underestimated her.
The more Vivienne thought about it, the angrier she got. She realized she couldn't just sit there and wait for the axe to fall; she had to go on the offensive.
Back in the restaurant, Julian's grip on Willow's wrist was starting to hurt. Seeing that he had no intention of letting go, Willow aimed a vicious kick squarely at his shin.
Julian winced in pain and was forced to release her, shooting her a furious glare.
Willow glared right back without an ounce of intimidation. "You asked for it."
With that, she grabbed her purse and marched right out the door.

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