As she spoke, her voice pitched with worry.
"Alex, please don't be mad at Mr. Floyd. If you don't want me here, I'll leave right now."
She made a show of turning toward the door.
Before I could respond, Nathan yanked her back into his arms, then fixed me with a look of pure disgust.
"Alex, don't go stirring up drama when you've got nothing better to do. Vivian is my employee—taking care of her reflects the company's values."
"If you can't tolerate her, move out. This villa is mine. You're just a guest here."
I stared at him, stunned. Every word was an ice pick to the chest.
The home I'd poured my heart into, the place I thought was my safe harbor—I was nothing but a guest in it.
My eyes burned, and I finally understood how pathetic I'd been.
I took a deep breath and steadied myself.
"If Ms. Fox wants to stay, she can stay."
I turned to head back to the bedroom.
Nathan's voice cut through behind me.
"Pack your things and move to the guest room. Vivian's alone—if she gets a fever tonight, I need to be close."
I looked at him for a long moment. Aren't you afraid of catching it? The question died on my tongue.
I just said, "Mm," grabbed a blanket, and walked to the guest room.
I packed our wedding photo and all my toiletries into a suitcase.
Old things. A newcomer would find them an eyesore anyway—no point making myself unwelcome.
An hour later, the master bedroom was spotless. I'd even vacuumed twice. Not a trace of me remained.
The moment I straightened up, I made a call.
"Ethan, come pick me up."
When I dragged my luggage downstairs, Nathan's expression shifted.
"What scene are you making now? If you walk out that door, don't bother coming back."
I checked the time. Ethan would still be a while, and I had no desire to get into it with him.
"I'm just putting my luggage in the guest room. So Secretary Fox won't feel uncomfortable seeing it."
I pulled my suitcase toward the hallway.
Behind me, Nathan went rigid. He hadn't expected me to comply so easily. For a moment, he just stood there.
Vivian's voice floated over, perfectly timed.
"Mr. Floyd, Ms. Harding is upset. Maybe I should leave after all? I'll just suffer through the night alone—as long as you two don't fight because of me."
Nathan seemed to be convincing himself.
"She gets mad all the time. Give it a couple days, she'll get over it. What's she gonna do?"
Then, as if to prove a point, he ordered me, his face dark.
"Vivian's weak. Go make her something light and nutritious—porridge with sea cucumber."
They both turned to stare at me.
I wasn't going to engage. But I also wasn't going to waste more words. I turned and went to the kitchen.
I rinsed the sea cucumber and washed the rice, tuning out their laughter in the living room.
Nathan's hand slipped under the hem of Vivian's shirt. She squirmed against him, all coy and breathless.
I set the porridge and side dishes in front of them without a word, then turned to leave.
Vivian's voice stopped me.
"Alex, wash my bra for me? I have a cold—I shouldn't touch cold water."
My nails dug into my palms. I fought the urge to slap her.
The next second, Nathan grabbed that disgusting scrap of underwear, raised his hand, and flung it into my face.
"I tell you to wash it and you make that face? Think you're some kind of princess? You're nothing but a bedwarmer the Hardings sold to me."
