Rewrite Her Thrilling Life (Lillian and Sebastian) novel Chapter 566

**The Billionaire’s Last Obsession series 566**

Vivian was teetering on the brink of despair, her heart heavy as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Henry, no… please, I can’t bear the thought of leaving this house. I have nowhere else to go. You can’t be so heartless,” she pleaded, her voice cracking under the strain of her emotions.

Henry remained silent, his expression unreadable. With a deliberate calmness, he turned and made his way to the staircase. As he reached the landing, he glanced back at the butler and coldly instructed, “When I return downstairs, I expect not to find her still within the Sinclair family.” Without another word, he ascended the stairs, leaving Vivian to grapple with her anguish.

The moment he disappeared from view, Vivian crumpled to the floor, her sobs echoing through the grand hall like a mournful melody. Each cry felt like a dagger to her heart, a reminder of the life she was being forced to abandon.

Eventually, the butler, accompanied by a few servants, approached her with a sense of duty. They gently, yet firmly, led her out of the Sinclair residence, the weight of her loss palpable in the air.

As they reached the door, Chloe stood there, her youthful face a mask of confusion and sorrow. “Mom, what about me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mix of fear and uncertainty.

Vivian turned her swollen, tear-streaked face toward her daughter, desperation flooding her thoughts. “Chloe, listen carefully. You must stay in the Sinclair family. As long as you’re here, there’s still a chance for me to reconcile with your father, do you understand? You must promise me, never leave,” she implored, her heart aching for the bond they shared.

Chloe nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I understand, Mom,” she replied, her voice trembling with the weight of the promise she was being asked to bear.

With a heavy heart, Chloe watched as her mother, burdened by two cumbersome suitcases, slowly made her way from the Sinclair estate. Each step she took left a mark in the freshly fallen snow, a poignant reminder of the life she was leaving behind.

At Ravenwood Manor, an oppressive silence enveloped the space, occasionally interrupted by the hurried footsteps of servants scurrying about their tasks.

In the lounge, a man sat comfortably on the plush sofa, engrossed in a file that lay open before him, while Foster stood stoically at his side, awaiting instructions.

Suddenly, Unno entered with a brisk stride, his demeanor respectful yet urgent. “Mr. Whitmore, I bring news—Vivian has been expelled from the Sinclair family,” he announced, his voice steady.

Sebastian’s hand halted mid-turn of the page, his interest piqued. “She left with nothing?” he inquired, a hint of curiosity lacing his tone.

Vivian instinctively stepped back, her heart racing. “Who are you? What do you want?” she demanded, her voice trembling with fear.

They offered no response, their actions swift and ruthless. They seized her suitcases, her small bag, and even her phone, tossing everything into the van as if it were mere garbage. In the blink of an eye, they were gone, the van speeding away before she could fully comprehend what had just happened.

Desperation surged within her as she shouted, “Robbery! Help! They’ve stolen my things!” She sprinted after them, her heart pounding, but by the time she reached the corner, the van had vanished into thin air.

Not far off, Unno observed the scene from another vehicle, his expression impassive as he drove away, leaving Vivian to grapple with her newfound reality.

Standing at the street corner, Vivian felt the weight of the world crash down on her. Passersby glanced at her with curiosity, their faces a blur of indifference. The biting cold wind whipped through the air, swirling the snow around her, each flake a reminder of her isolation. In that moment, she faced the raw truth of her helplessness and despair.

Thoughts raced through her mind as she considered calling the police, but the realization hit her hard—her phone was gone, taken along with her sense of security. With a heavy heart, she turned back toward the Sinclair residence, the only place she had ever called home, now a haunting reminder of what she had lost.