After Divorce: Remarried to a Tycoon with Twin Babies-Chapter 155: Master Julian Has No Charm in Vivian’s Eyes?

Chapter 155: Chapter 155: Master Julian Has No Charm in Vivian’s Eyes?

Vivian suddenly stopped in her tracks, panic-stricken.

"Julian, is there... is there any room to discuss this?"

Julian stopped with her, lowering his gaze to meet her eyes. "Discuss what?"

"Is it that you don’t want to marry me... or you don’t want children anymore?"

Vivian’s face went pale. "What do you mean?"

"So, if I don’t marry you, you won’t let these two babies be born?"

She bristled instantly, prickly as a hedgehog.

She even radiated a kind of hostility toward Julian.

Vivian yanked her hand back and protectively cradled her belly as if shielding her babies.

Julian squeezed his now empty palm, looking truly disappointed. "So you really want them to be illegitimate forever?"

The two of them stood in the snow. Behind them, Felix and Lina Holloway led a group having a snowball fight with Stella.

The whole garden was filled with a laughter and joy Crestfall Villa hadn’t seen in twenty years.

Yet, at that moment, in a small window upstairs, a pair of eyes glared viciously at the scene below.

It was Matron Turner—the woman who’d been slapped by Stella earlier that evening.

Feeling disgraced, after the slap she hadn’t stepped downstairs again.

Of course, no one thought of her either.

But resentment had been building up in Matron Turner’s heart, deeper and deeper.

From the moment Vivian and the others started having hotpot in the garden, she’d been standing at the window, staring at them with a pitiful grudge.

However long they ate, she stared just as long.

Her legs were already stiff from standing so long, but she made no move to rest.

"A fine villa, utterly ruined and turned to chaos!"

"Lowborn, just as expected from an orphan—unworthy, wretched! And now she’s corrupted Julian too—lowering himself so far as to eat something as vulgar as hotpot."

"What are you, really? Think you’ll just become mistress of this villa without question?"

"With me here, don’t even dream!"

Matron Turner’s face twisted with venom as she pulled out her phone and made a call.

"Hello? Madam?"

"Shall I send someone to fetch you tomorrow morning?"

"It’s snowing. You should come home, spend some time with Julian and Stella, talk and be happy, and share the winter together."

"Honestly, they really miss you."

On the other side of the line, Sylvia Joyce was silent for a long time after hearing this. "Really?"

"They... would really miss me?"

Matron Turner’s lips curved into a smile. "Of course."

"You have no idea, Stella even painted a portrait of you."

"As for Julian... you know him. He always pretends to be cold, but he’s soft at heart—he just can’t swallow his pride."

"Truth is, maybe he needs you even more than Stella does."

Sylvia Joyce sighed softly.

"Then tomorrow... I’ll go home and take a look."

After she hung up, Matron Turner paused and dialed another number.

"Hello? Have you... come back to the country?"

"I’ve been waiting for your news."

"The madam is coming back tomorrow, too."

"When do you plan to show yourself?"

The voice on the other end was chillingly cold, but unambiguous: "Five days from now, at the soonest."

"I still have unresolved matters in hand. It will be a few days yet."

"What now, does that family need me?"

"You’re actually in such a hurry to call me back. Matron Turner, have you forgotten how you drove me away back then?"

Matron Turner trembled slightly.

She quickly explained: "You misunderstood."

"I had no choice all those years ago..."

But the person on the other end didn’t care for her explanation.

He cut her off swiftly. "Enough."

"No point rehashing the past."

"Since I’m returning, Matron Turner, you’d better have made all the preparations."

"And, I’m not just your tool for these schemes. Since inviting a god is easy but sending one away is hard, you’d best be ready for that mentally."

"Otherwise, you’ll be the first I deal with."

He hung up when he finished.

Matron Turner’s face was now uglier than ever.

Suddenly, she regretted provoking someone she never should have involved.

"Did I make a mistake...?"

"No, everything I do is for the family’s good."

"Without me, this house would’ve fallen apart long ago."

"I’ve dedicated my life, tirelessly, to the Thorne Family. How could I be wrong?"

"Vivian is a disaster, and Julian is utterly bewitched by her. If no one returns to stop all this, the Thorne Family will be ruined soon enough."

"This house simply cannot tolerate Vivian anymore!"

Saying that, Matron Turner slammed a palm on the table, a look of grim determination on her face.

Vivian glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the main house.

Something felt strange—tonight, she’d kept having the feeling she was being watched from the shadows.

Those eyes always made her skin crawl.

Until Julian pinched her chin, turning her face back to him. "Answer me!"

"What are you thinking about—you’re daydreaming in front of me?"

"Vivian, am I really that unappealing to you?"

At this, even his gritted teeth betrayed a hint of frustration.

Vivian: He’s not attractive?

He was the first man in her life who could make her heart race and her thoughts tumble, the first she couldn’t help but fix her gaze upon, unwilling to look away.

How could he not be appealing?

But... what does attraction have to do with marriage?

Lawrence Dame and Lester Gable are attractive, too.

But she couldn’t marry them, could she?

Before Vivian could respond, Julian pressed on: "I heard that blind guy, Grant, tracked you down at Crestfall Villa today. Did you go see him?"

"Don’t tell me he’s here to beg you to remarry him?"

"Am I still not as important as him in your heart?"

Just the thought seemed to sour Julian’s voice all over again.

Vivian’s eyes widened, and she slapped Julian’s hand away from her chin.

"Re-remarry? What nonsense is that?"

"Would I be crazy enough to remarry him? I gave him a tongue-lashing, thank you very much!"

Wait—why does he sound so jealous when talking about Austin?

Come on, President Thorne, you two aren’t even officially together, and you’re already jealous?

This attitude... tsk, even Vivian herself could barely stand it.

Hold on, why am I explaining myself at all?

But Julian grew even more outrageous—his hands cupping Vivian’s cold cheeks, face now showing a bit of grievance, even a trace of hurt:

"Then why do you hesitate so much when I propose, barely giving me straight answers?"

"But you’re so patient with him."

"Clearly, it’s different when it’s someone’s first marriage and a remarriage."

Vivian: Patience? With Austin, she’d thrown mud and even slapped him. Clearly, he didn’t know that?

This is baffling!

Until she suddenly saw that shadowy, inscrutable look in Julian’s eyes—and it dawned on her that she’d just been teased by him again!

He actually! Did it again! Messed with her!

Seeing her angry and flustered, he finds it fun, doesn’t he?

Fine, two can play this game!

Vivian narrowed her eyes, pushing Julian’s hands away in annoyance before growling: "So just tossing me a contract counts as a proposal?"

"So in Mr. Thorne’s eyes, I’m really this easy to please?"

"Heh."

She let out a sarcastic snort, then strode back toward the main house.

With a wave, she tossed out, "Julian, if we agreed on three days, then let’s wait until the deadline!"

As for the future, Vivian knew she really did need to think it all through.

Julian watched her retreating figure, a slow smile appearing on his lips.

"Fine, I’ll wait for you."

But Vivian didn’t dwell on it much; listening to the falling snow, she soon drifted off to sleep.

Only before bed did Catherine Sinclair send her a message: "Vivian, I’ve made arrangements about visiting the orphanage like you wanted last time."

"If you’re free tomorrow, I’ll meet you there."

Seeing this, Vivian’s heart gave a little jolt.

Could the orphanage... hold clues to her own past?

Last time, she’d asked Dean Caldwell from the hospital to help investigate her birth records.

The file contained only the birth date, weight and length—nothing else about her birth.

No name for the mother, no age, no phone number, no address.

The dean contacted some old nurses and doctors now retired. They told Vivian her mother showed up at the ER alone in the late night back then.

She carried no money and had no emergency contact, and was a bit delirious; if Vivian hadn’t been about to be born, the hospital wouldn’t have admitted her at all.

After Vivian was born, the nurses tried to collect her mother’s information, but she’d already dressed and, still dazed, left the hospital.

Then, just as she crossed the road outside, she was hit by a car.

They say she died on the spot.

However, another nurse who looked after the babies distinctly recalled that, though Vivian’s mother left, she seemed to have tucked a jade pendant from her neck into Vivian’s swaddling blankets.

Several people saw that pendant at the time.

But afterward, the pendant disappeared.

They suspected the nurse who swapped the babies had taken it.

Catherine had never seen this pendant either.

So the trail ended there again.

Vivian kept investigating, but there had been no real progress.

She hadn’t even found that nurse from back then.

"Then how did the Sinclair Family realize the baby identity swap two years ago?"

Vivian didn’t understand.

Her blood type had always matched Wendy Warren’s, so no one had ever doubted her parentage growing up.

She only began to suspect, two months early, because someone tipped her off: Simon Sinclair was doing a paternity test report!

Why would Dad suddenly do a DNA test?

Did he have an illegitimate child somewhere?

At first, Vivian suspected it was Simon’s usual antics.

But after tailing her father a while, she realized—he was doubting her!

Vivian even noticed Simon’s attitude toward her slowly changing.

The affection and favoritism of the past turned gradually to impatience and indifference.

It was then that Vivian panicked—was there something wrong with her identity?

So she secretly did a paternity test of her own—the result was, of course, devastating.

In retrospect, what puzzled Vivian even more was: who was the person who told her about this?

The person never showed their face, and after that vanished, as if they’d never existed.

But why did they warn her—what was their goal?

Vivian had tried to track the person down, but they used anonymous contacts—the email address was virtually untraceable.

"Maybe... Julian can help me."