Four Of A Kind - Chapter 182: [VOLUME 3 FINALE] I Declare War

Chapter 182: [VOLUME 3 FINALE] I Declare War

Something in his voice made her believe him completely.

As she walked toward the Lumière executives, Vivienne felt different. The mask she’d worn for years still fit, but now there were cracks in it. Little spaces where the real her could breathe.

She posed for photos. Smiled at all the right moments. Answered questions about market strategy and brand synergy.

But part of her remained in that bathroom stall, pressed against the wall with Isaiah’s mouth on hers, discovering what it felt like to be wanted for herself and not for what she represented.

The party continued around her, a careful dance of power and influence. Vivienne performed her role perfectly, never revealing the turmoil beneath her composed exterior. Yet with each handshake and air kiss, the memory of Isaiah’s touch burned brighter.

After what felt like eternity, she finally escaped the last conversation and scanned the room for him.

He stood by the bar, watching her. Waiting, just as he promised.

Vivienne crossed the room, her heels clicking against marble. The crowd seemed to part for her—or perhaps they simply became irrelevant, blurring into background noise as she focused on the only person who mattered.

“Hi,” she said when she reached him.

“Hi yourself.” His voice was warm. “Ready to go?”

“More than ready.”

They walked together toward the exit, not quite touching but close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body.

Outside, the night air felt cool against her flushed skin. The car waited at the curb, driver standing at attention.

“Miss Valentine,” he greeted, opening the door.

She slid into the back seat, Isaiah following.

As the car pulled away from the curb, silence stretched between them. The city lights painted shadows across his face, highlighting the angles of his jaw, the slight curl at the corner of his mouth.

“About what happened,” Vivienne began, then stopped. She never struggled with words. Ever. Yet now they tangled in her throat.

“In the bathroom?” Isaiah supplied.

“Yes.”

“What about it?”

She could feel warmth creeping up her neck, coloring her cheeks against her will. “It was… rather unprofessional of me.”

“Exceedingly.”

“And terribly complicated.”

“Beyond measure.”

“And also…”

“Also what?”

She lifted her gaze to meet his in the shadowy interior of the car. The city lights flickered across his features as they drove, illuminating the intensity in his eyes. “And I find myself wanting to repeat the experience at some point in the near future.”

The admission hung between them like a fragile, dangerous thing. Bold. Reckless. Completely unlike the careful, calculated Vivienne Valentine everyone knew. Her heart hammered against her ribs with such force she worried it might shatter her composure entirely.

Isaiah studied her face with careful deliberation, his expression unreadable for what felt like an eternity. Then, slowly, he reached across the leather seat and took her hand in his. The warmth of his palm against hers sent an electric current up her arm.

“You understand this is quite possibly the worst idea either of us has ever had,” he said, voice low and serious.

“Without question.”

“Your mother will turn my existence into absolute misery.”

“Almost certainly.”

“She could terminate my employment on the spot.”

“She won’t,” Vivienne tightened her grip on his hand, surprised by her own certainty. “You perform your duties too exceptionally. And my sisters would stage an immediate rebellion if she tried.”

Something complicated shifted in Isaiah’s expression at the mention of her sisters. A shadow of something—guilt? confusion?—passed across his features.

“About that particular subject,” he said carefully. “What exactly did you mean earlier? About me knowing which sister didn’t kiss me on the manor steps?”

So he had caught that slip. Of course he had.

Vivienne lowered her gaze to their intertwined hands, noting how perfectly they fit together. “Mrs. Tanaka informed Chef Laurent that one of us Valentine girls kissed you on the front steps of the manor. I happened to overhear their conversation.”

Isaiah remained silent for a long moment, his thumb tracing small circles on her hand. “And that person wasn’t you.”

“No.” She lifted her eyes to meet his again, allowing herself a moment of complete honesty. “But I’ve thought about nothing else except wishing it had been.”

The admission cost her something—a piece of the armor she’d built around herself. Yet watching his expression soften made it worth the price.

“Which sister was it?” he asked.

Vivienne shook her head. “I don’t know. Mrs. Tanaka didn’t specify.”

“So it could have been any of them. Harlow. Cassidy. Sabrina.”

“Yes.”

He leaned back against the seat, eyes still on her. “What am I supposed to do with that information?”

“I don’t know that either.” Vivienne looked out the window at the passing city. “But I thought you should know.”

She felt him shift beside her, moving closer until their shoulders touched.

“Vivienne,” he said softly.

She turned back to him. In the darkness of the car, his eyes looked deeper. Warmer.

“Yes?”

“I’m glad it was you tonight.”

Something inside her chest unfolded like a flower reaching for sunlight. Before she could think herself out of it, Vivienne leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

This kiss was different from the first. Softer. More certain. His hand came up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing against her skin with a gentleness that made her ache.

When they parted, Vivienne kept her forehead pressed against Isaiah’s, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. Her heart hammered so loudly she wondered if he could hear it. The car glided through Manhattan streets, city lights casting shadows across his face.

“I’m not stupid,” she whispered, watching his eyes widen slightly. “I see the way you look at my sisters.”

His body tensed. “Vivienne—”

“No, let me finish.” She pulled back just enough to see his whole face. “When Mrs. Tanaka first told me about you, I thought only an idiot would fall for someone like you. The scholarship boy from Philadelphia with the two-toned hair and the perfect test scores.”

His jaw tightened. She traced it with her finger, feeling the stubble beneath her skin.

“But it seems the Valentine sisters are all idiots.” She smiled, a small, private thing. “Harlow lights up when you walk into a room. Cassidy pretends to hate your tutoring but checks her phone constantly for your messages. Even Sabrina, who barely speaks to anyone, finds reasons to be wherever you are.”

Isaiah swallowed hard. She watched the movement in his throat.

“And me?” Vivienne leaned closer. “I’m the biggest idiot of all. Because I know better.”

“Know what better?”

“That this can’t work.” She gestured between them. “My mother. The company. Your job. My sisters. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

His eyes searched hers. “So what are you saying?”

Vivienne took a breath, then slid her hand behind his neck. “I’m saying I believe in fair fights.”

She pulled him toward her, pressing her lips against his with a boldness that surprised even herself. His response was immediate, his mouth opening to hers, hands finding her waist.

God, he tasted good. Like expensive champagne and something uniquely him. Her head spun as his tongue slid against hers, the kiss deepening until she couldn’t remember why they’d ever stopped in the first place.

She wanted to climb onto his lap, to feel his hands everywhere, to forget about Valentine Holdings and inheritance clauses and her mother’s disapproval.

When she finally pulled away, they were both breathing hard.

“But know this, Isaiah Angelo,” she whispered against his lips. “I’m playing for keeps. So you better be ready.”

His pupils were blown wide, only a thin ring of brown surrounding them. “That sounds like a threat.”

“It’s a promise.”

The car slowed as they approached the manor gates. Vivienne reluctantly moved back to her side of the seat, straightening her dress. The distance between them felt unnatural now, like her body knew where it belonged.

Isaiah ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up in messy spikes. “What happens when we go inside?”

“We go back to normal. For now.” She smoothed her own hair, checking her reflection in her phone camera. “My mother will be watching.”

“And your sisters?”

Vivienne looked at him. “What about them?”

“You just said they all have feelings for me.”

“Yes.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

The car stopped in front of the manor. Through the windows, Vivienne could see lights still on in various rooms. Harlow’s. Sabrina’s. Cassidy’s.

“Of course it bothers me,” she said quietly. “They’re my sisters. I love them more than anything. But—”

“But what?”

“But I also want you.” The admission felt like jumping off a cliff. “And I’ve spent my entire life being the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the perfect heir. For once, I want something just for me.”

Isaiah’s expression softened. “Vivienne…”

“You don’t have to decide right now.” She unbuckled her seatbelt. “But you will have to decide. Soon.”

The driver opened her door, and the cool night air rushed in.

“Thank you for accompanying me tonight, Isaiah,” she said, her voice shifting back to its professional tone. “Your assistance was invaluable.”

His lips quirked up, understanding the game. “Happy to help, Miss Valentine.”

***

END OF VOLUME THREE: Playing For Keeps