Ronan was sweating so much he could barely keep up with wiping his brow. "Why on earth are you at the Meyer's wedding feast? You're not thinking of...?"

"Tying the knot, what else is there?" Cyrus shot back with a smirk that didn't touch his chilling eyes, as deep and dark as an unfathomable abyss.

In his mind's eye, the woman who had 'rescued' him from Elias's clutches flashed before him.

Sure, she seemed like a straight shooter, but who's to say she wasn't playing a game of deception?

He was eager to see what game she was really running.

Under Vivienne's swift and no-nonsense orchestration, both families, albeit bewildered, found themselves caught up in the lively celebration.

Elenore, the matriarch of the Sinclair family, after the initial shock wore off, was practically beaming as she led her group to the Meyer's banquet.

Compared to the obscure Fiona, securing a noble lady for her youngest son was more than she could have hoped for!

After a few shots of liquor, Vivienne, with her radiant bride's makeup, called her grandmother Pamela on video.

Unaware of the switch in grooms, Pamela was wiping tears of joy, repeating with heartfelt emotion, "It's good that you've settled down. It's good! With one foot in the grave, my greatest wish is to see you have a great-grandchild soon!"

Vivienne, "..."

Grandma, didn't you say your greatest wish was for me to get married?!

How did it suddenly switch to wanting a great-grandchild?!

But as for having a child—

Vivienne, emboldened by the alcohol, made a grand promise to her grandmother, "Just one child? Grandma, just you wait! I'll give you a soccer team's worth, so you can watch them play every day!"

She was a woman of action!

After hanging up, Vivienne rolled up her sleeves, stomped in her three-inch heels, and marched determinedly towards the bridal chamber.

Inside the bridal chamber.

Cyrus, with the help of the servants, had freshened up and was leaning against the bed, engrossed in a book.

Bang—

A noise from the door jolted Cyrus from his reading. He looked up to see Vivienne, her face flushed with excitement.

He closed his book and set it aside, apologetically, "Miss Meyer, you're back... I'm sorry, I told them not to leave me here, but they..."

Before he could finish, Vivienne stepped forward and boldly straddled Cyrus.

The smell of alcohol enveloped him.

Cyrus frowned, his eyes showing a hint of resistance.

"Miss Meyer. You're drunk." He turned his head away.

But in the next moment, Vivienne grabbed his jaw, forcing him to face her. "I am not!"

Seeing the man's resistance, Vivienne pouted, grumbling unhappily, "Cyrus, why the cold feet? We're married now, we're husband and wife, and sharing a room is definitely on the cards."

Cyrus clenched his teeth, "It's fine, but my legs... And we just met, right? Are you really okay with giving yourself to me?"

"What's there to worry about?" Vivienne grinned, her warm breath tickling his neck, causing a tingling sensation.

With a flirtatious glance, she began to remove Cyrus's clothes.

Cyrus was taken aback, his pupils dilated in shock, not daring to move a muscle!

But Vivienne cupped his face with her hand.

The beautiful, slightly intoxicated woman looked at the man in front of her, and she smiled leisurely, "If I get a little rough later, you'll have to forgive me."

The night was quiet.

Inside the bridal chamber, an ambiguous atmosphere filled the room.

Cyrus, pinned under Vivienne, never expected the Meyer family's eldest daughter to be so forward!

When the woman's fingertips landed on his neck, he shuddered all over, utterly shocked, his pupils dilating to the max.