Chapter 371: Vivienne.
Kyle had to accept that Calista was technically his responsibility. She was part of his life, part of his arrangement, and even if their relationship was supposed to be purely physical, she was still under his umbrella of care. That meant making sure she was okay when she was clearly not okay.
She was dozing peacefully on his lap, her breathing even despite the fever, but Kyle knew she needed somewhere more comfortable to sleep than curled up on a couch. The position couldn’t be doing her body any favors, and she’d wake up with a stiff neck on top of everything else.
Kyle shifted carefully, sliding one arm under her knees and the other behind her back. He lifted her gently, trying not to jar her awake. She was lighter than he expected, or maybe he’d just gotten stronger. Either way, she barely stirred as he carried her toward what he assumed was her bedroom.
The door was already open. He maneuvered through it carefully, laying her down on the bed with as much gentleness as he could manage. She made a small sound, curling onto her side, but didn’t wake.
Kyle pulled the blanket up over her, tucking it around her shoulders. Then, almost without thinking, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. Her skin was still warm against his lips, but noticeably cooler than before. The fever was breaking, or at least coming down. That was good.
He stood there for a moment, watching her sleep, wondering when the hell he’d started caring about things like whether Calista Wave had a comfortable place to rest while sick.
But now he faced a choice. He could leave, slip out quietly while she slept, send her a text later checking in. Or he could stay, talk to the mother, maybe learn something about Calista that would help him understand the complicated woman who’d somehow become more than just another body in his bed.
Kyle stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.
The moment he entered the living room, he noticed something had changed.
Vivienne had adjusted her shirt. The neckline was lower now, pulled down just enough to expose significantly more cleavage than before. It wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t in his head, either. Kyle could remember every single detail of how she’d looked ten minutes ago, and this was deliberate repositioning.
He wanted to find out more about Calista. This was his golden opportunity, having her mother here, willing to talk. He couldn’t let whatever weird energy Vivienne was putting out derail that.
"She’s resting," Kyle said, his tone professional as he moved back toward the chair he’d been sitting in before. "Fever seems to be coming down a bit."
"That’s good," Vivienne said warmly, like the adjustment to her clothing had never happened. "She tends to get these fevers when she’s overwhelmed. Her body just crashes when she pushes too hard. Has since she was a teenager."
Kyle settled into the chair, maintaining deliberate distance. "I never considered how much of a toll all this must take on her. I guess I always assumed the industry stuff was something she was used to."
"Nobody gets used to it," Vivienne said, leaning back in her seat. "They just get better at hiding how much it stresses them out."
"I see." Kyle frowned slightly. "I’m surprised she didn’t call me. If I’d known she was this sick, I would’ve come over sooner."
Vivienne shrugged, a knowing smile on her face. "It’s better she didn’t call and you didn’t come than calling and you not showing up."
"Huh?" Kyle’s brow furrowed.
Vivienne stood up from her chair and walked toward him, her movements deliberately slow. "Fear of abandonment. Same way her father walked out on her when she was eight. Left one morning for cigarettes and never came back. She learned early that asking for help is just setting yourself up for disappointment."
Kyle sighed the moment he heard that. The typical story. Father abandons family, daughter grows up with trust issues and a distorted view of men. It would explain why Calista treated men the way she did. She saw her father in all of them, and the ones she could use before they inevitably left, she did. Control the situation before it controlled her.
It was textbook psychology, and it made Kyle feel something uncomfortably close to pity.
He turned to look at Vivienne to ask another question, but his eyes caught on her cleavage again. It was even more exposed now, the shirt having somehow shifted further down while she’d been walking.
"You know," Vivienne said, her voice dropping to something sultrier, "you can do more than just stare."
That confirmed it. She was fully aware of those glances Kyle thought he’d been stealing. This wasn’t accidental. This wasn’t innocent.
Kyle didn’t say anything. He just looked at her, his expression flat and unreadable, holding eye contact until the silence stretched uncomfortably long.
Vivienne shifted slightly, her confidence wavering under the weight of his stare.
"You really want to fuck the same man your daughter is fucking?" Kyle asked finally, his tone completely flat. No judgment, no heat, just stating the facts as they were.
Vivienne recoiled slightly. Kyle genuinely found this disgusting, especially because her daughter was sick in the other room. Whatever twisted family dynamic had produced Calista’s approach to sexuality, this was crossing a line he had no interest in approaching.
"Why not?" Vivienne said with a shrug, trying to recover her composure. "We’re all adults here. What Calista doesn’t know won’t hurt her. And you’re obviously a man who appreciates beautiful women."
Kyle had a vivid mental image flash through his mind. Grabbing her by the neck, pushing her down into the couch, pounding her so hard she’d never make a request like this again. It would be easy. She was offering. And part of him, the part that had been running on pure testosterone and opportunism lately, was tempted.
But this was still Calista’s mother.
"I doubt it," Kyle said, standing up. This was his cue to leave. Time to get out before this situation got any weirder.
The moment he moved toward the door, Vivienne grabbed his arm.
"Wait!" Her voice sounded desperate, and that was the only reason Kyle actually stopped instead of pulling away and walking out.
"Yeah?" He turned to look at her.
"Before you go, I need your help with something." Vivienne’s expression had shifted from seductive to something closer to genuine need. "Please. It’s important."
Kyle raised an eyebrow. He knew he could get out of this situation if he needed to. Forcefully, if it came to that. He was stronger, faster, and had no qualms about removing someone’s hand from his arm if they weren’t taking the hint.
But that desperation in her voice gave him pause.
"What kind of help?" he asked carefully.
"In my room. I can show you better than I can explain."
Every alarm bell in Kyle’s head went off simultaneously. This was obviously a setup. Obviously leading somewhere he probably shouldn’t go. But curiosity and the genuine distress in Vivienne’s voice made him hesitate.
"Fine," he said. "But if this is what I think it is, I’m walking out."
"It’s not," Vivienne said quickly. "I promise. I just... I need help with something I can’t do myself, and Calista’s too sick."
Kyle followed her down the short hallway to what must have been the guest room, every muscle in his body tense and ready to bail at the first sign this was going where he suspected.
