Richest Mogul

Chapter 1932

Harvey left the bedroom door ajar, the soft, warm glow of the floor lamp casting gentle shadows across the room. He had intended only to glance inside, but the moment his eyes landed on the bed, his expression shifted from casual to

shocked.

Vivian lay there, dressed in an intricately detailed period costume. Her features were serene as if she were in the deepest sleep.

"Vivian!" Harvey exclaimed as he rushed over to her.

His voice, sharp and urgent, should have been enough to rouse even the deepest sleeper. But Vivian remained motionless, her breathing steady, lost in an

unyielding slumber.

Frowning with concern, Harvey grabbed a nearby infrared thermometer and checked her temperature-97.88°F, perfectly normal. Still, something was wrong.

"Vivian?" He called again, but there was no response.

Her complexion was pale, and she seemed to have lost weight. A pang of guilt gripped him; he had been downstairs, oblivious to her return. Even without a fever, his worry deepened.

to the hospital didn't seem necessary right now, but something still felt off. Without hesitation, he

aid kit. The urgency in Harvey's

were mostly kept in the basement for easy access

outfit..." Howard noticed

something seen in photos or movies. The fabric and embroidery were exquisite, far more

she wore now was more elaborate and

to be honest with him. "Check on her

urgency, and immediately

Vivian remained unresponsive, her

Howard stepped back, his brows furrowed in thought. "Physically, she seems

lingered. They moved to the living room, where

in stunned silence. The shock he felt was similar to the first

to steady himself, Howard

in

Mrs. Martin are