Chapter 8

Vivian Shaw POV

Ethan stood in place, seemingly frozen.I know that before, even if he just said a few words to Quinn, I would look at him with red-rimmed eyes.

But now, I had actively pushed him toward her. He simply couldn't believe it.

Ethan belatedly let Quinn pull him into the dance floor.

The music started. He held Quinn's waist but couldn't help frequently glancing toward me in the corner.

I was standing at the food table, eating cake in small bites, my expression calm, my eyes indifferent, as if I were attending a stranger's party.

Quinn noticed his distraction and grew displeased. "Since you care about her so much, just go find her. I'll go dance with another man."

With that, she let go of Ethan, turned, and walked toward a man in a white suit.

The man was Quinn's college classmate who had always liked her. Seeing Quinn approach, he immediately extended his hand attentively.

Quinn placed her hand in his, and the two glided into the dance floor.

Ethan stood in place, watching Quinn laugh and chat with that man, his expression gradually darkening.

Quinn seemed to be deliberately provoking him, getting closer and closer to that man. Finally, she even leaned to the man's ear and said something. The man laughed, lowered his head, and kissed her cheek.

The wine glass in Ethan's hand shattered with a crack.

Blood mixed with wine dripped down, but he felt no pain.

He rushed forward, grabbed Quinn's wrist, and dragged her out of the dance floor.

"Ethan! What are you doing?! Let me go!" Quinn struggled.

Without a word, his face livid, Ethan practically dragged Quinn out of the banquet hall to the empty, deserted balcony outside.

Ethan pressed her against the cold railing, his voice suppressing violent rage. "Quinn, do you have any sense at all?!"

Quinn was startled by his shouting, then got angry herself and forcefully shook off his hand. "I have no sense? I'm not married. He's not married. We're both willing. So what's the problem? Who are you to me, Ethan? What right do you have to tell me what to do? As my ex? Or as some other woman's husband?"

"You!"

Quinn's words stung Ethan until his eyes turned red, and the string of rationality snapped completely in that moment.

He abruptly lowered his head and fiercely kissed Quinn's lips!

It wasn't a gentle kiss. It carried punishment and plunder, fierce and domineering.

Quinn stiffened at first, then a gleam of triumph flashed in her eyes. She didn't struggle. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and began kissing him back passionately.

The balcony glass was frosted. People outside couldn't see clearly what was happening inside, but I stood in the corner, and through a gap in the glass, I could see everything clearly.

I watched Ethan kiss Quinn, watched Quinn wrap her arms around his neck, watched them kiss inseparably.

There was no pain in my heart, only a numb sense of absurdity.

The kiss lasted a long time, until both were breathless.

Ethan suddenly pushed Quinn away, as if jolted awake from a dream. He looked at Quinn's glistening red lips and dazed eyes, his heart lurching sharply, followed by overwhelming panic and self-loathing.

"I'm sorry," he turned his face away, his voice terribly hoarse, carrying a kind of awkward evasion. "I... I drank too much. I mistook you for Vivian."

Quinn obviously didn't believe his explanation. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, looking up at him, her tone carrying tears and pleading.

"You've never had Vivian in your heart. How could you mistake me for her? Stop lying to yourself, okay? You still love me. You can't let me go at all!"

"Ethan, let's stop torturing each other, okay? Divorce Vivian and let's get back together. I swear I'll never be as willful as before. I'll love you properly, be a good wife to you, okay?"