EuropeNovelChapter 32 Violet's cheeks flushed a faint pink, making her look a little shy.
"Can I help you?" she asked quietly.
With that, she'd basically admitted who she was. The group of young men in front of her nearly lost their minds with excitement. One of them immediately tore off his sports jacket and, grabbing a pen from a nearby waiter, thrust it toward Violet. "You really are Violet Marchand! I can't believe my luck, running into you here. Could I could I get your autograph?" Having Violet's signature on his jacket was something he'd be able to brag about for years.
Violet glanced over at McNeil, her eyes silently asking for his opinion.
He gave her a subtle nod.
So Violet quickly scrawled a string of English letters "Vivian"-across the boy's jacket.
The moment she finished, the boy just stared at the name, dumbfounded.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"You're... Vivian?" he stammered.
Vivian-the brilliant mechanical engineer with a mysterious identity, known only by her code name, never seen in public-was actually Violet.
Vivian is Violet!!! No wonder. It all made sense now.
"Oh my god..." As soon as the group realized she was Vivian, they surged forward, nearly jostling each other in their eagerness to get her autograph.
Violet kept her composure, smiling patiently as she signed for each of them.
"All right, that's enough for now. This is private time," she said kindly but firmly after a while.
The crowd was growing thicker by the minute, and Gwyneth had been pushed right out of her seat. McNeil, finally fed up, stepped in.
He called over the restaurant's security to restore order, worried that someone might get hurt in the chaos. Then he pulled out his phone to summon his own security detail, just in case.
Upstairs, Victoria watched the commotion below with a cool, detached gaze. The boys chanting "Vivian!" as if they were running on pure adrenaline made her lips curve in a faint, wry smile.
She'd just spent half an hour talking with Johnny, and they'd reached an agreement about her marriage situation. Glancing at her watch, Victoria stood to leave.
Johnny peered down at the swelling crowd below and blocked her path gently. "Let's take the staff exit," he suggested. "No idea what's happening down there, but it looks packed." Victoria nodded lightly. "All right." She turned to go, but suddenly heard Gwyneth's voice, tinged with tears: "Daddy! Ms. Marchand..." Victoria's heart clenched. Kicking off her heels, she rushed downstairs, weaving through the crowd to reach Gwyneth, and scooped her up into her arms just before the crush of people could close in.
Johnny followed close behind, shielding both mother and daughter with his body.
Meanwhile, McNeil was doing everything he could to keep the fans at bay, his bodyguards forming a barrier as he guided Violet toward the exit.
"Mommy..." Gwyneth's cheeks were still streaked with tears, but when she spotted Victoria, her eyes lit up. She wrapped her arms tightly around Victoria's neck.
There were so many people just now. She'd seen her dad carrying Violet away, and she'd shouted for them, but they hadn't even heard her.
She'd been knocked over, finding herself surrounded by nothing but legs. She'd been terrified.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm"Mommy, I was so scared... sob..." she whimpered.
Victoria hugged Gwyneth close, gently stroking the back of her head, her own heart still racing from the fear.
What if someone had trampled Gwyneth? What if something had happened to her? "Mrs. Langford, letdrive you home," Johnny offered, leading the two of them toward his car.
Not far away, a sleek black SUV waited patiently.
A cluster of bodyguards ushered McNeil and Violet inside.
In the rearview mirror, McNeil caught sight of a familiar silhouette. Was that Victoria?
Violet, still a little unsteady from the crowd, noticed McNeil's distraction and asked softly, "Is everything alright?" McNeil hesitated for a moment. Victoria should have been at hright now- there was no way she'd be here.
"It's nothing. Let's get you home," he said, focusing on Violet's wellbeing and completely forgetting that Gwyneth had been left behind.
Victoria could put up with McNeil's indifference toward her, but shem couldn't stand that he'd neglected her, their daughter's safety. Staring at the car ahead, she dialed McNeil's number. As expected, he didn't answer.
Resigned, Victoria sent him a text instead: "Gwyneth's with me. I'm taking her hnow."
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