Vivienne Laurent-Cassel
In rooms where power was inherited and sharpened over generations, Vivienne Laurent-Cassel was never the loudest voice.
She was the one people watched after.
Old money taught patience.
Strategy.
Timing.
And Vivienne?
Vivienne had perfected all three.
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Her reflection in the mirrored wall of her private lounge was flawless.
Not just beautiful—intentional.
Every detail curated:
The fall of her hair.
The precision of her makeup.
The way her posture suggested elegance without effort.
People like to call women like her "perfect."
They were wrong.
Perfection was static.
Vivienne was calculated.
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She had known Lucian Calloway most of her life.
Not intimately.
Not romantically.
But consistently.
Same circles.
Same events.
Same quiet understanding of what it meant to be born into power instead of chasing it.
They were alike in all the ways that mattered.
Composed.
Selective.
Untouchable.
Which was exactly why she had always assumed—
