Chapter 20
Charles Foster let out a soft, bitter laugh.
“You were poison… and I was blind. Now we both deserve to pay for the sins we chose to commit.”
Soon, the police arrived and took Diana Schuyler into custody.
As someone involved in the case, Charles was also brought in for questioning.
Before leaving, he halted one of the officers with quiet politeness.
“Excuse me, would it be alright if I retrieved something first?”
The officer gave a nod.
Charles pulled open a drawer, searching until he found a dusty wedding band tucked away inside. He slipped it onto his
ring finger with solemn reverence, then kissed it gently-again and again.
Vivian… My Vivian.
Where… are you now?
He prayed silently.
Once he had paid his debt to Vivian’s parents-once justice was served-no matter where she was in the world, he would find her again. He had to.
What Charles never expected… was for fate to play its cruelest joke yet.
As he sat on a cold bench at the police station, waiting to be interrogated, the rest of the witnesses were escorted in.
He gave them a brief glance-there was the housekeeper who had nearly been strangled, the family members of the intern who had died years ago…
And then his gaze locked on one figure.
His whole body froze.
There-her.
Someone who looked exactly like Vivian Bennett.
Blood drained from his limbs. It took several seconds for him to register what he was seeing, and then suddenly-he bolted forward and grabbed her wrist.
His eyes reddened instantly.
“Vivian… you came back. You’re really back. You’re still willing to come back to me… right?”
Vivian stared at him calmly.
Her dark eyes, polished like obsidian, reflected every ounce of raw desperation etched across his face.
“I did come back,” she said evenly. “But not for you.”
“Charles Foster, did you forget? My parents died in Ridgewood. I came back for justice-for them.”
His mouth twitched. The look on his face turned stiff and uneasy.
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“You’re right. Vivian, of course you’re right. You have every reason to come back for that. When this interrogation is over, I’ll be waiting for you outside, alright? Let’s go home.”
Vivian gave a cold, hollow laugh.
“Home?”
She casually linked arms with the man beside her.
“My boyfriend’s standing right here. Tell me-exactly which home do you expect me to walk into with you?”
“Charles Foster,” she said, each word like ice, “we’re divorced.”
That words slammed into him like a sledgehammer.
His heart clenched, again and again, as if stabbed with invisible knives.
There was a high-pitched ringing in his ears, drowning out every other sound.
“… What did you say?” His voice cracked. “Boyfriend?”
“Nice to meet you,” said the man beside Vivian with a bright, almost too-polite smile. He extended his hand.
“I’m Northon Shea. Pleasure to meet you- Mr. Ex.”
That final jab-the mocking title-lit a fire in Charles’s chest.
He swatted the man’s hand away and grabbed Vivian’s wrist again. His voice was taut, trembling with fury.
“Vivian, I’m your husband. We never even had a proper goodbye. That can’t be a real divorce. I never signed any papers. You really think I’d be fooled by a fake certificate?”
divorce
Vivian yanked her hand free, her face full of scorn.
“Use your brain, Charles. My parents were murdered. What the hell would I want with a $30 million mansion? What you signed was the real divorce settlement I had prepared long ago.”
“…So you were planning to leave… back then?”
Charles staggered back, hands dropping to his sides.
His voice cracked like brittle glass.
“…Why?”
Tears welled in Vivian’s eyes-but her voice was hoarse and unyielding, burning with the fire she had buried deep for so
long.
“Because Diana Schuyler killed my parents.”
“And you-my husband, the man who swore he loved me-you forced me to sign a damn waiver. You helped her destroy the evidence. Tell me, Charles… how the hell was I supposed to go on loving an accomplice?”
“Tell me-how was I supposed to face my parents’ spirits in heaven?”
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