Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN BEFORE VIVIEN
I confronted Vivien the next morning.
Not with accusations.
With a question.
“When did we first meet?”
She smiled.
“March fourth.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
“Where?”
“The Bellmont charity gala.”
I nodded.
“That was our first meeting?”
“Yes.”
I watched her face.
No hesitation.
No fear.
A perfect lie.
I placed a photograph on the table.
It showed Vivien entering my father's office six months before the charity gala.
Her face was unmistakable.
Her hair was different.
But it was her.
Her smile disappeared.
“Who took that?”
“My father.”
She stared at the photograph.
“You're mistaken.”
“No.”
I placed another picture beside it.
Then another.
She had visited Ravenwood seventeen times before we met.
Always when I was away.
Always through the service entrance.
Always carrying a different handbag.
“What did you do here?”
She looked at me.
“Your father knew me.”
That stopped me.
“Knew you?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
She lowered her eyes.
“My mother worked for him.”
I had never heard that name.
“Who was your mother?”
“Isabella Rossi.”
My father had once mentioned an Isabella.
A woman who handled private family matters.
But he had never explained what those matters were.
Vivien looked at me.
“Your father promised my family something.”
“What?”
She whispered,
“Justice.”
Then she stood.
“You've opened a door you should have left closed.”
She walked away.
I sat there staring at the photographs.
May you like
Suddenly, this wasn't only about money.
It was personal.
