Vivian’s Schemes

Back in the glittering social circles of New York, the city buzzed with gossip about the impending merger and arranged marriage between Mila Morgan and Drake Hawthorne. The corporate world, along with the social elite, was captivated by the drama unfolding between the two powerhouses. But not everyone was enamored with the growing tension between them—especially not Vivian Hawthorne.

For weeks, Vivian had been keeping a close eye on Drake. She had known him too long, knew his patterns, his behavior, and most importantly, his weaknesses. Since the gala, she had noticed subtle changes in him—he was more distracted, less focused on the merger that had once consumed his attention. He was slipping out of his carefully crafted, ruthless persona, and when she heard about the art auction in Paris, everything clicked into place.

Vivian knew Drake well enough to understand that this wasn't just about business anymore. His emotions were shifting, and she knew exactly who to blame. Mila. The idea that Drake might be falling for Mila—a woman who threatened everything Vivian had spent years building—sent a wave of icy fury through her. It wasn't love that made her want him back; it was control. Drake had always been part of her plan for social dominance, the perfect complement to her own ambitions. And if Mila took him away, all of it would come crashing down.

But Vivian Hawthorne wasn't one to be sidelined. She had survived too many battles in the elite social scene to let Mila walk away with everything she had worked for. She was strategic, calculating, and more than willing to play dirty to get what she wanted.

Her first move was subtle but effective. She began stirring rumors within New York's elite circles, weaving carefully planted seeds of doubt about the so-called "perfect match" between Drake and Mila. Over dinner parties, exclusive charity galas, and quiet lunches at The Pierre, Vivian casually mentioned that the marriage arrangement was shaky at best, that Mila was pushing Drake too hard, that the pressure of the merger was already taking its toll on their "relationship." Her insinuations were soft but deliberate, the kind of gossip that spreads like wildfire among New York's high society.

"Have you heard?" she'd whisper to mutual acquaintances, her voice laced with just enough intrigue. "I heard from a reliable source that Mila isn't as invested in this marriage as everyone thinks. And Drake… well, I'm sure you can imagine how he feels about it."

Vivian knew how these circles worked—the smallest rumor, the lightest nudge, could snowball into something much bigger. By the time the gossip reached its peak, people would start to doubt the legitimacy of the merger before it even began. It wouldn't take much more to drive a wedge between Drake and Mila.

But stirring the pot from the shadows wasn't enough. Vivian needed to be seen, to reassert her presence in Drake's life. She started attending events where she knew Drake would be, each time perfectly poised, perfectly polished, reminding him of the allure they had once shared. She was careful never to seem too obvious, never directly approaching him unless the timing was just right. But every time they crossed paths, she made sure her presence was felt.

At an exclusive rooftop cocktail party hosted by one of New York's wealthiest hedge fund managers, Vivian made her move. Dressed in a sleek, form-fitting Alexander McQueen gown, she exuded power and grace as she glided through the crowd, her eyes searching for the familiar figure of Drake. When she finally spotted him near the bar, laughing with a few other business titans, she approached slowly, timing her entrance perfectly.

"Drake," she purred, her voice soft but unmistakably sultry. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Drake turned, his smile faltering for just a moment when he saw Vivian. She noticed the brief flicker of surprise, followed by the familiar guarded look he always wore around her. But there was also a hint of something else—an unspoken acknowledgment of their shared history.

"Vivian," he replied smoothly, his tone neutral but polite. "You know me. I'm everywhere these days."

Vivian smiled, her eyes gleaming with something more. "It seems we're always running into each other, don't we?"

As they exchanged small talk, Vivian carefully positioned herself closer to Drake, letting their past relationship hang unspoken between them. She casually mentioned old memories, slipping in reminders of their once-powerful partnership—how unstoppable they had been together. It wasn't a plea for him to come back; it was a reminder of what they had built, and what he might be throwing away for Mila.

"New York's changed a lot since we ran things together," she mused, taking a sip from her champagne flute. "But some things never change. You and I… we've always made a good team, haven't we?"

Drake offered a noncommittal smile, but Vivian could see the subtle conflict in his eyes. He wasn't the same man she had once known—Mila had gotten under his skin, and that worried her. But Vivian wasn't going to give up so easily. She would keep planting seeds of doubt, both in Drake's mind and within the social circles they navigated. Slowly, carefully, she would make herself indispensable to him again.

As the evening wore on, Vivian made sure to leave on her own terms, pulling back just enough to keep Drake thinking about her. She didn't need him to fall for her again—not yet. All she needed was for him to question whether Mila was really what he wanted, or if maybe, just maybe, the Vivian Hawthorne of his past still had a place in his future.

She was far from done. Vivian was willing to bide her time, but when the moment came, she would be ready to strike. Mila might have gotten under Drake's skin, but Vivian had spent years mastering the art of reclaiming what was hers.