Rebirth In Divorce My New Mr. Perfect (by Summer Knowles) novel Chapter 811

After the birthday party, Vivian quietly shuttled between the company and home, harboring no other thoughts.

Or perhaps she temporarily had none—or maybe it was the calm before the storm.

The servants silently served dinner and retreated without daring to lift their heads.

Vivian ate gracefully, but before she'd taken more than a few bites, commotion erupted from the courtyard.

Mr. Wilson had returned.

She dabbed her mouth with a napkin, stood up, and walked outside to greet him.

However, she keenly noticed that Mr. Wilson seemed to be in a foul mood, his expression as dark as storm clouds.

Vivian hesitated, calling out somewhat anxiously, "Grandfather, you—"

Before she could finish, Mr. Wilson strode over and slapped her face without mercy.

The sharp crack echoed as Vivian clutched her cheek, staring at him in disbelief.

Mr. Wilson, thinking of what Zachary had mentioned, flew into a rage. "Come to the study with me," he said coldly.

Vivian had no idea why she'd been struck, but an ominous feeling crept into her heart.

Mr. Wilson had already passed her, heading upstairs. His retreating figure still radiated fury—slapping her hadn't been enough to quell his anger.

Vivian took a deep breath and followed him to the study.

Only after closing the study door did Mr. Wilson turn around, demanding furiously, "How does Zachary know about West Ridge? What else are you hiding from me?"

Mr. Wilson hadn't even verified the facts before condemning Vivian.

Mr. Wilson looked away, neither confirming nor denying his belief in her words. He only said coldly, "It better be that way. Don't forget your identity—you're the heir to Wilson Group."

Vivian nodded silently.

Mr. Wilson's eyes flickered between light and shadow as he continued, "But don't forget—I can replace you at any time."

"Yes." Vivian's face went pale. She knew her grandfather meant it. He'd sent her to prison once before; he could abandon her again.

Mr. Wilson tapped his walking stick against the floor, his tone ambiguous. "Arrange to meet with Leon. I want to have a talk with him."

Vivian really didn't want any further connection with Leon, but with Mr. Wilson's order given, she had no choice but to comply.

She arranged to meet at home, since what they'd be discussing probably couldn't be known by others.

Leon thought Vivian was the one who wanted to see him.