The moment they stepped out of the hospital, the world did not wait for them to breathe. It exploded.
Flashes cut through the air. Cameras surged forward. Voices overlapped, sharp and relentless.
"Mr. Ravenscroft!"
"Is the child yours?"
"Are you divorcing your wife?"
"Mrs. Ravenscroft, say something!"
The press had gathered too fast. Too perfectly. Too prepared.
Sebastian saw it instantly. This was not coincidence. This was arranged. Positioned. Timed. "Move," he said coldly.
The guards closed in around them at once, forming a solid wall as they pushed through the crowd. Microphones stretched toward their faces, cameras flashing without pause, voices rising louder with every step as if they were trying to force a confession out of silence.
Vivian did not look at any of them.
Her face remained calm. Untouchable. Unreadable. But her hand—
Her hand was no longer in Sebastian's.
She walked beside him, straight-backed, composed, distant. Not leaning. Not holding.
