Her Birthday His Forbidden Desire novel Chapter 19

**Twilight Carves Destinies by George Orwell**

**Chapter 9**

Vivienne’s heart raced like a wild stallion as she fought to regain her composure, her gaze locked onto the inky black waves that churned ominously beneath the yacht. The darkness below was impenetrable; it felt as though the abyss had swallowed everything whole, leaving no trace behind.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally turned away from the edge, the weight of her thoughts heavy in the air.

“Rest in peace, Sloane. You got exactly what you deserved,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

A sly smile crept across her lips, one that hinted at a cruel satisfaction that lingered just beneath the surface, hidden from the world around her.

On the second deck, Declan stood with utmost care, cradling a delicate six-inch chiffon cake in his hands. As his eyes caught sight of Vivienne’s return, he quickly lit the flickering candle perched atop the confection. “Try it. No milk, just fresh raspberries flown in this morning. It’s only 30% sweetness—perfect for your diet phase. You’re going to love it,” he declared, his enthusiasm palpable.

Vivienne, her eyes sparkling with anticipation, blew out the candle with a playful smile. “Feed me, then,” she urged, her tone teasing yet earnest.

“Aww, come on, you two invited us here just to show off, huh?” one of their friends chimed in, a playful smirk dancing on their lips.

“Seriously, Declan—when are you finally going to divorce that maid? It’s time to make our lady here official,” another voice chimed in, laughter bubbling around them.

“Yeah, just get married already. Didn’t you give her a ring at that charity gala last week?” a third friend added, the teasing growing bolder, more unabashed.

As the laughter swirled around him, Declan’s smile faltered for a fleeting moment, a shadow of unease crossing his features. He lifted his gaze, scanning the crowd for a familiar face, but Sloane was conspicuously absent.

A swell of anxiety gripped his chest, tightening like a vice.

“Why are you spacing out, Declan? Feed me the cake,” Vivienne urged, her fingers playfully shaking his arm, trying to draw him back into the moment.

Snapped back to reality, Declan scooped a small bite of cake and fed it to her, but as soon as she swallowed, he withdrew his hand as if a sudden chill had gripped him. His brows knitted together as he glanced toward the others. “Alright, that’s enough. I know everyone’s joking, but let’s not take it too far. I’m married, after all. I have a wife. Vivienne’s still single,” he asserted, his tone firm.

“If this keeps up, it won’t look good—for her,” one friend remarked, the air thickening with tension.

Vivienne’s smile froze in place, her fingers curling into fists by her sides, the atmosphere shifting ominously around them.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify