Peter walked into the study, removed his coat, and reclined on the sofa. With his eyes closed, recent events churned continuously in his mind, leaving him sowhat exhausted.
Following Wood's death, the funds he provided monthly were temporarily missing, but more concerning was the sense of unease the mayor felt with Gador's death. At so point, things had gradually begun to spiral out of control—a worrying sign for soone like him, who made the rules. Even more troubling was that, amidst his uncertainty, the state tax bureau had dispatched an investigator to audit Ternell City's taxes. It was hard to say if this was sohow connected.
Adding to his distress was Vivian's sudden pregnancy—a tangled ss that left him feeling overwheld.
"Madam hasn't attempted to leave the estate these past few days, has she?" asked the mayor, savoring a rare mont of tranquility after his busy and intense work schedule. Under such pressure, most people would have crumbled, but Peter relished it; he was a man who chased power, right from the start and even now.
The butler, while hanging up the mayor's coat, responded, "As of now, Madam hasn't left her room and has only eaten sparingly."
"Has anyone visited her?" Vivian had nurous close friends—socialites of the city, whose husbands were either imperial officials or ambitious moguls in Ternell City. n's social interactions were often intertwined with won's charms, so it wasn't surprising that not all of them returned ho full of energy. This also made the city's elite won's circle sowhat chaotic.
Vivian was the most prominent figure in this circle, and her absence over several days was bound to raise questions, prompting soone to contact her and organize so gathering. These won were not to be underestimated—this was wisdom Peter had accumulated over the years. They might lack capabilities in serious matters, but when it ca to creating trouble, they were experts. Vivian's gatherings and social circle were allowed and even encouraged by Peter, as, when needed, these won could yield substantial benefits for him. At worst, they wouldn't spoil his plans without reason.
"Sir, yesterday Madam Graf visited, but Madam excused herself, citing discomfort. Since then, no one else has co or attempted to visit," the butler dutifully answered. Being a butler was no easy task, and being a butler to soone of power was even harder.
Peter nodded. "And the officers at the entrance? Had they left by the ti I returned?"
"Yes, sir. There was a heavy downpour today, and they got drenched, so I invited them inside for a short rest. It seems they caught colds. To prevent spreading illness within the estate, I allowed them to leave after a brief respite."
"Well done!"
A cold is a peculiar ailnt. It isn't particularly fierce; it won't render a person unable to stand or impair any bodily function, but it can still claim lives. The church had said that colds were a punishnt from God—a trial for the soul. Each year, many people succumb to colds, returning to God's embrace. Strangely, even though the poor could seldom afford dicine, most managed to recover. In contrast, the wealthy, who used various precious dicines, would often, in a mont of carelessness, close their eyes forever.
So say it's because the wealthy have dark hearts, which is why God judges them. This rumor lacks any basis or truth, and the authorities have denounced it, yet the powerful still believe it.
As a result, they strictly avoided exposure to colds.
Peter soon fell asleep, exhausted by his day-to-day responsibilities, but it was exhaustion he enjoyed.
anwhile, two junior officers had removed their uniforms. This recent eting with Madam Vivian had offered Julian a trendous opportunity but also presented an even greater crisis. Julian firmly believed that when soone faces repeated setbacks, they develop resilience and a desire to overco. Perhaps so people would accept their fate and bow their heads, but he believed Vivian was not one of them.
She was born into the family of a governor, arriving in this world with a silver spoon, surrounded exclusively by nobles, politicians, and business tycoons. To her, the world might have always seed this way—until she fell, tasting the bitter and astringent dirt. Only then did she see the world clearly.
Power, wealth, and prestige form this respectable world. To live respectably, to have everything go smoothly, relying on others is insufficient. Others may look up to you because of your husband or father, but ultimately, it's only a fleeting glance. In the eyes of these politicians, family is but a decoration for social responsibility; it cannot alter their purpose or ambition.
The only way to bring change is to imrse oneself, becoming one of them.
When Mayor Peter, the current governor, and all political figures must look up to her, her will would beco theirs.
"If you wish to protect the child you're carrying, if you want even a semblance of love that, though false, appears genuine, Madam Vivian, then it's ti for you to decide."
"You should not be a woman reliant on others for necessities; you should be a strong woman. Your tea gatherings, your social circles, would allow you to achieve in a short ti what most people couldn't in a lifeti."
"I am not urging you to defy your husband or your father; I rely hope to see an exceptional woman rise independently, representing countless won in weaker positions and voicing their own."
While Peter slumbered in the study, Madam Vivian stood by the window, gazing at the enchanting post-rain moonlight, pondering Julian's words. She had to admit, Julian was quite persuasive, successfully stirring her rebellious spirit and desire to change her destiny.
As the night deepened, a question lingered in her mind.
If she were the mayor, or even the governor, would her life be as it is now?
No!
It wouldn't. As Julian said, even if it were false, Peter would grant her the life she desired!
Clenching her fist, she gently touched her abdon, making what could be the most critical decision of her life.
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