Rising from Betrayal

Chapter 003

"Norman!"

Vivienne's voice rose sharply, cutting through his thoughts.

"Are you deaf?! I'm talking to you!"

The impatience on Vivienne's face deepened into open irritation.

"Did you seriously just ignore me?" she snapped.

"If you don't move right now, I'm really going to lose my temper."

Norman let out a cold laugh.

"Lose your temper?"

His eyes hardened.

"What the hell gives you the right?"

For twenty-two years, he had swallowed every grievance, obeyed every request, satisfied every unreasonable demand.

Looking back now, he wanted nothing more than to slap his younger self across the face.

What the hell had he been thinking?

With his abilities, his family's wealth, and his status, what kind of woman couldn't he have married?

So why...

Why had he obsessed over Vivienne as though she'd cast some spell on him?

What a damn fool he’d been!

"What... did you just say?"

Vivienne's beautiful eyes widened in disbelief.

"You actually dared yell at me? Have you lost your mind?!"

For the first time since she'd known him, Norman hadn't apologized.

Instead...

He had barked back?

Vivienne's anger was quickly joined by confusion.

What's wrong with him?

She knew Norman better than anyone.

Whenever she frowned or showed the slightest displeasure, he would immediately apologize, and do exactly as she wanted.

But today... he seemed like a completely different man.

She had agreed to marry him, sacrificing her own happiness.

She certainly hadn't done it just to be controlled... or yelled at.

Where she went, what she did, and who she spent time with were her choices.

Since when did Norman have the right to interfere?!

She took a deep breath, her expression turning icy.

"I'll say this one last time. Move."

"I'm counting to three. If you're still standing there..."

She paused for emphasis, her voice rising loud enough to echo down the hallway.

"...then we're getting a divor—"

Outside the apartment, the noise had already attracted attention.

The front door hadn't been pulled fully shut. Slow footsteps could be heard, drifting down the corridor. Mrs. Hartwell from unit 12B, the neighborhood’s self-appointed collector of gossip, has somehow found a reason to linger outside. Even the two college students from the end of the hall had conveniently stopped beside the elevator, pretending to check their phones while eavesdropping.

“Those two are at it again?”

"Nah. Calling it an argument is giving him too much credit."

"I'll bet he apologizes before she even finishes counting."

"Come on. He's still a man."

"So?"

"He might last... five seconds."

"..."

The other student rolled his eyes.

"You're way too optimistic."

A few apartment doors quietly opened a crack.

Everyone was waiting to watch the familiar ending.

Meanwhile, Vivienne began counting aloud, her voice calm and full of certainty.

"One..."

She didn't doubt the outcome for even a second.

Norman had always yielded.

He always did.

Whether he was wealthy or not made no difference.

The moment she put her foot down...

He always behaved like an obedient lapdog.

Completely unaware of the icy mockery in Norman's eyes, she continued, "Two..."

Silence filled the apartment.

Then... Norman loosened his grip.

The bouquet slipped from his fingers.

"Do whatever you want."

A triumphant smile flickered across Vivienne's eyes—the smile he had long mistaken for warmth.

She knew it.

Norman was still the same obedient lapdog. Show him the slightest hint of displeasure, and he'd swallow his pride.

"Good." She stepped toward the foyer mirror and smoothed her hair.

"Then come downstairs with me. Nathan's almost at the lobby. The least you can do is greet him properly."

"Try to look presentable. Don't embarrass me in front of him."

Norman didn't answer.

He turned toward Mrs. Walker, the housekeeper who had been standing quietly in the corner of the room, her expression carefully—painstakingly—kept neutral.

"Mrs. Walker," Norman said evenly, "please prepare dinner. Something hot. Steak, soup, and whatever else we have in the refrigerator."

He glanced at the untouched candlelit table.

"And clear these dishes away. They're cold already."

Mrs. Walker blinked, then gave a small nod. "Of course, Mr. Calloway."

The old woman quietly gathered the untouched dishes and carried them toward the kitchen, letting out a quiet sigh.

She couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.

Norman was handsome, wealthy, well-educated, and remarkably capable.

Instead of relying on his family's fortune, he had built a business with his own hands while still in his twenties.

By every measure, he was an exceptional young man.

Yet he'd spent the entire afternoon preparing this elaborate dinner for a woman who didn't even want to stay.

And now he was still making sure she wouldn't leave hungry.

What a tragedy.

Vivienne, however, gave a satisfied nod.

She had never loved Norman, but she had always enjoyed his attentiveness and obedience.

Then she suddenly remembered something.

"Oh, Mrs. Walker. Don't use any peanuts. Nathan's allergic."

Nathan had driven all the way here to pick her up. After such a long drive, he was probably hungry already.

Since Mrs Walker’s cooking was famous throughout the neighborhood, Nathan deserved to try it too, she thought.

The hallway went silent.

Even Mrs. Walker froze for a moment.

She had expected a lot from Norman over the years.

But preparing food around another man's allergies?

Even she couldn't help frowning.

But Norman’s expression hadn’t changed in the slightest.

Her heart sank.

But she forced herself to nod anyway.

"Understood, Mrs. Calloway."

She was only the housekeeper. Her job was to take care of the household, not interfere in her employer's marriage.

Poor Mr. Calloway...

Rich. Handsome. Capable.

And somehow blind enough to throw everything away for a woman like this.

Just as the neighbors silently mocked Norman for bringing all of this upon himself...

Norman finally spoke.

His voice was calm, "I'm the one eating dinner."

He looked at Vivienne without the slightest trace of warmth.

"So what the hell does Nathan have to do with it?"