Chapter 620

When Liam Sullivan chased out of the restaurant, the night was already deep.

Cars streamed through the streets, neon lights flashed, but Vivian Bennett's figure was long gone.

His heart tightened, and he immediately dialed her number.

The phone rang for a long time, but no one answered.

He called again, only to hear the automated voice saying the phone was switched off.

Liam's face darkened.

He quickly opened the phone's tracking system—a tiny tracker he had secretly embedded in her bracelet long ago, just in case.

A red dot pulsed on the screen, on the other side of the city.

The location showed: Blue Note Bar.

Liam's eyes turned icy cold. He turned and rushed into his car, the engine roaring as it tore through the night.

Inside the bar, the lights were hazy, and the music was deafening.

Vivian sat alone at the bar, a row of colorful cocktails lined up before her.

Azure like the sea, crimson like fire, amber shimmering.

She picked up a jade-green "Emerald Dream," tilted her head back, and downed it in one go.

The strong liquor burned her throat and settled in her stomach, but it couldn't suppress the dull ache in her heart.

The fleeting satisfaction of revenge lasted only a moment, followed by a deeper, heavier emptiness.

Hurt him seven parts, damage yourself three.

She understood this logic, but when emotions surged, reason had long since crumbled.

"Miss, drinking alone is so lonely."

A flirtatious male voice came from beside her.

Vivian glanced sideways and saw two flashily dressed men approaching from either side.

The one on the left had dyed blond hair, his gaze sticky as it swept over her face. "Want big brother to keep you company for a drink?"

The one on the right was more direct, his hand already resting on the back of her chair, almost encircling her. "Feeling down? Tell big brother about it. I promise to make you happy."

Vivian sneered.

She pushed the empty glass away and picked up a pink "Rose Poison."

"Get lost."

Her voice wasn't loud, but it was laced with ice.

The blond man leaned in with a cheeky grin. "Don't be so harsh. We're just being nice—"

Before he could finish, a hand with distinct knuckles suddenly reached from behind, gripping the wrist he had placed on the chair back.

Crack.

The crisp sound of bone breaking was still audible amidst the noisy music.

The blond man screamed, his face instantly contorted in pain.

He turned his head in terror, meeting a pair of eyes that seemed forged from ice.

Liam stood behind him, the corner of his mouth curved in a chilling arc.

"You want to touch her?"

His voice was soft, yet it froze the air around them.

The other man stumbled back two steps, knocking over a nearby barstool.

Liam didn't even glance at him. His gaze was fixed on Vivian.

Her fingers holding the glass trembled slightly. Her face was flushed with drunkenness, but her eyes met his defiantly.

"Come with me."

He released the blond man's wrist. The man slumped to the floor, clutching his wrist and wailing.

Vivian tilted her head back and took another gulp of her drink.

"Did Mr. Sullivan chase me to a bar because he wants to hear those words again?"

Her smile was sarcastic, but a sheen of tears glistened in her eyes.

Liam's heart twisted painfully.

He stepped forward, snatched the glass from her hand, and slammed it onto the bar.

"Stop drinking."

"You're going to control me?" Vivian stood up, her steps unsteady as she swayed. "We're done, Liam. Can't you understand that?"

The music still thundered. More and more people gathered to watch the spectacle.

Liam scanned the surroundings, then suddenly bent down and scooped her up into his arms.

"Ah—let me go!" Vivian struggled.

He only held her tighter, striding through the crowd toward the bar entrance.

A bartender's voice called out from behind. "Sir, you haven't paid—"

Without looking back, Liam pulled a black card from his pocket and tossed it onto the nearest table.

"Is that enough?"

The bartender caught the card, stunned.

The woman in his arms was still kicking and hitting. Liam tightened his hold and leaned down to whisper in her ear, his voice low and firm.

"Keep moving, and I'll kiss you right here in front of everyone."

Vivian froze.

She knew this man too well—he meant what he said.

The bar door was pushed open, letting in the night wind.

Liam carried her to his car parked by the roadside, opened the door, and placed her in the passenger seat.

Vivian reached to push the door open, but he locked it first.

"Liam!" Her eyes reddened with anger. "What do you want?"

He slid into the driver's seat and turned to look at her.

Neon lights filtered through the window, casting flickering shadows on her face.

"What do I want?" He repeated her words, then let out a low, bitter laugh. "Vivian, I want to ask you the same thing—how far do you have to push me before you're satisfied?"

Vivian was stunned.

A dead silence fell inside the car.

Only their suppressed breaths were audible in the confined space.

Liam started the car. The engine growled as it merged into the night.

The street scenes outside the window sped backward like a faded old movie.

Vivian leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.

Drunkenness mixed with exhaustion washed over her. She suddenly felt very tired.

Too tired to even muster the energy to hate.

After an unknown amount of time, the car slowly came to a stop.

She opened her eyes and found they weren't at the villa or her apartment.

It was a vast, empty riverside park.

The river surface in the deep night was pitch black like ink. Sparse lights from the opposite shore reflected on the shimmering waves.

Liam turned off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Get out."

His voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable force.

Vivian didn't move.

He leaned over, unbuckled her seatbelt, then opened her door.

The river wind, damp and cold, hit her face.

Vivian shivered as he took her wrist and led her to the railing by the river.

"Why did you bring me here?" She pulled her hand back and wrapped her arms around herself.

Liam gazed at the distant river, silent for a long time.

"Vivian."

He finally spoke, his voice somewhat scattered by the wind.

"If I said... about what happened back then, I had my reasons."

He paused and turned to look at her.

"Would you be willing to listen?"

Vivian's heart gave a violent jolt.

Reasons?

The word was like a needle, piercing her long-numbed nerves without warning.

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Liam looked at her pale face, complex emotions churning in his eyes.

"I know it's too late to say this now."

He smiled bitterly. "But I still want to tell you—I never meant to hurt you."

"Never."

The river wind howled past, tousling her long hair.

Vivian stood there, suddenly feeling everything before her turn blurry.

Was it the alcohol, or something else?

She couldn't tell.

She only heard her own voice, so light it seemed about to scatter in the wind.

"Liam..."

"It's too late."

Three words. A death sentence.

Liam's pupils constricted sharply.

He reached out to grab her, but she took a step back, avoiding his touch.

"Take me back."

She turned around, her back to the river, her voice terrifyingly calm.

"Or I'll take a taxi myself."

Liam's hand froze in mid-air.

After a long moment, he slowly withdrew it, clenching it into a fist.

"Alright."

He heard himself say.

His voice was dry, like sandpaper scraping his throat.

On the way back, neither of them spoke another word.

By the time the car stopped in front of Vivian's apartment building, it was already past midnight.

She pushed the door open, got out, and walked into the hallway without looking back.

Liam sat in the car, watching her disappearing figure. Suddenly, he slammed his fist against the steering wheel.

The horn let out a sharp, piercing sound, jarring in the silent night.

He slumped over the steering wheel, his shoulders trembling slightly.

His phone vibrated at that moment.

He glanced at the screen. It was a message from his assistant.

"Mr. Sullivan, we've found something. There's a lead on the mastermind behind that incident years ago."

Liam stared at the line of text, a storm suddenly raging in his eyes.

He slowly straightened up and dialed the number.

"Speak."

His voice was cold as ice.

On the other end, his assistant's voice was cautious.

"Based on the current leads, the person who framed Miss Bennett back then might be connected to... the Sullivan family."

Liam's pupils contracted violently.

The Sullivan family?

He gripped the phone, his knuckles turning white.

"Keep investigating."

"At any cost. I want to know the whole truth."

He hung up the phone and looked up at the window where the light had just turned on.

Vivian stood by the window, pulling the curtains shut.

The light went out, and her figure disappeared into the darkness.

Liam leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

That conspiracy from years ago was like a giant net, trapping everyone within it.

And he was only now faintly touching the edge of that net.

If the truth really was connected to the Sullivan family...

He opened his eyes, a deep chill in their depths.

Then, some accounts needed to be settled.

The night grew deeper.

The city slept, but undercurrents moved silently.

Meanwhile, Vivian leaned against the cold door of her apartment and slowly slid down to the floor.

She hugged her knees and buried her face in her arms.

Tears finally fell silently.

Why?

She had already decided to hate him for a lifetime.

But when he stood by the river, looking at her with those eyes—

Her heart still ached.

Ached so badly it felt torn apart.

Outside the window, Liam's car was still parked downstairs.

The headlights were off, but he hadn't left.

Like a silent statue, guarding the night.

After an unknown amount of time, the first light of dawn appeared on the horizon.

Liam finally started the car and slowly drove away.

Upstairs, Vivian finally fell into a deep, exhausted sleep as the morning light filtered through the curtains.

In her dream, it was still that river.

The river wind blew, carrying his voice.

"I never meant to hurt you."

She cried out in her dream.

When she woke, the pillow beside her was damp and cold.

A new day had begun.

But some wounds could never heal.

Just like some truths—once uncovered—

Would be drenched in blood.