Chapter 12 - Vivian’s Confession
We met Vivian the next morning in a private conference room at my hotel.
Leonard searched her purse.
Her coat.
Her phone.
She didn’t object.
She looked different.
No designer dress.
No perfect makeup.
No cold smile.
For the first time since I came home, Vivian looked sixty-two.
Tired.
Frightened.
Human.
Dad sat across from her.
I sat beside him.
Ben recorded everything with her permission.
Vivian stared at Dad.
“I’m sorry.”
He did not answer.
She swallowed.
“I know that doesn’t matter.”
“You’re right.”
Her eyes filled.
“You don’t have to forgive me.”
“I won’t.”
She flinched.
Dad’s voice stayed calm.
“But you can tell the truth.”
Vivian looked down at her hands.
“My brother has controlled my life since I was seventeen.”
I said nothing.
She continued.
“Our father died with debts.”
“Our mother disappeared.”
“David took care of everything.”
“He paid my tuition.”
“He got me the job at Hale.”
“He taught me how to move money.”
Dad stared at her.
“You stole from me.”
“Yes.”
“No excuses?”
“No.”
Her answer surprised him.
“I stole.”
“Thomas created the first vendor account.”
“I discovered it.”
“I threatened to expose him unless he gave me part of the money.”
“I was twenty-six and stupid and angry and convinced rich men like you would never notice.”
Dad laughed bitterly.
“I noticed.”
“Yes.”
“Nathan noticed.”
“Yes.”
“You were fired.”
“Yes.”
“Then you came back.”
Vivian nodded.
“Years later.”
“Why?”
She looked at him.
“At first?”
“Because David told me to.”
Dad closed his eyes.
I felt something break inside the room.
Vivian continued.
“He heard your wife had died.”
My mother.
“He knew you were vulnerable.”
Dad’s eyes opened.
“Did you ever love me?”
Vivian began crying.
Not dramatically.
Quietly.
“Yes.”
Dad looked away.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I know.”
She wiped her face.
“But that became the problem.”
“What problem?”
“I was supposed to get close to you.”
“Influence decisions.”
“Help David secure contracts.”
“Nothing more.”
“But you trusted me.”
“You loved me.”
“And eventually I loved you.”
Dad’s face was unreadable.
Vivian looked at me.
“I hated you because you could see through me.”
I stared.
“You were the only person Richard listened to who never liked me.”
“So you forged my signature.”
“Yes.”
Dad closed his eyes again.
Vivian’s voice cracked.
“I told myself you would inherit millions anyway.”
“That the lake house didn’t matter.”
“That separating you and Richard would protect my marriage.”
“I told myself anything I needed to.”
My voice was cold.
“You stole my mother’s house.”
“Yes.”
“You stole six years with my father.”
“Yes.”
“You watched him crawl on the floor.”
She broke then.
Her shoulders shook.
“I know.”
Dad stared at her.
“Why?”
Vivian struggled to speak.
“Because after the crash, David told me we were finished.”
“He said investigators would trace Phoenix.”
“He said you had contacted Nathan.”
“He said if you regained control, we would all go to prison.”
“So you drugged me?”
“I controlled the pain medication.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
She looked at him.
“Yes.”
Dad’s face became empty.
“I wanted you dependent.”
“I wanted you scared.”
“I wanted you to sign.”
She looked down.
“And every day it became easier to tell myself I was protecting Marcus.”
Marcus.
Her son.
Dad whispered.
“He tried to kill me.”
“He didn’t know David intended to damage the main brake line.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I didn’t know either.”
Dad’s eyes hardened.
“But you stood there.”
“Yes.”
“You watched them touch my car.”
“Yes.”
“And you let me drive it.”
Vivian’s voice disappeared.
“Yes.”
Dad leaned back.
For several seconds, all he did was breathe.
Then he said.
“I never want you near me again.”
She nodded.
“I understand.”
“Near my house.”
“Yes.”
“Near my company.”
“Yes.”
“Near Isabella.”
Vivian looked at me.
“Yes.”
Dad stood.
His leg shook.
He used the table for support.
Vivian whispered.
“Richard.”
He stopped.
She slid an envelope across the table.
“This is why I called Isabella.”
Inside was a photocopy of a bank transfer.
Five hundred thousand dollars.
From Mercer Advisory.
To an account registered in the Cayman Islands.
Beneficiary:
Marcus Hale.
Date:
Three days after Dad’s crash.
I stared at Vivian.
“What is this?”
“David paid Marcus.”
Marcus had claimed he didn’t know.
He had.
Maybe not everything.
But enough.
Vivian continued.
“I found it three weeks ago.”
“I confronted him.”
“He said Marcus had earned it.”
Dad’s voice turned cold.
“For helping with the car.”
Vivian nodded.
“That was when I understood.”
“Understood what?”
“That David was going to sacrifice Marcus if anything went wrong.”
She looked at me.
“So I sent the envelope.”
“Why not go to police?”
“Because David has records on me too.”
“Fraud.”
“Tax crimes.”
“Forgery.”
“Everything.”
I studied her.
“You were protecting yourself.”
“Yes.”
At least she stopped lying about that.
“But there’s more.”
She reached into her coat.
Leonard moved instantly.
Vivian froze.
Slowly, she removed a key.
Small.
Brass.
Dad stared at it.
“What is that?”
“David’s private office.”
I frowned.
“He carries a key?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Not his law office.”
“There is another office.”
“Where?”
“Below the Mercer Foundation building.”
Ben sat forward.
“What’s inside?”
Vivian looked at him.
“Original files.”
“On what?”
“Everyone.”
She turned toward Dad.
“Judges.”
“Bankers.”
“Executives.”
“Politicians.”
“Clients.”
“And us.”
My skin crawled.
Dad looked at the key.
“You’ve been there?”
“Once.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“What did you see?”
“A wall of cabinets.”
“Paper records.”
“Old recordings.”
“Photographs.”
“David doesn’t trust digital storage.”
Ben smiled faintly.
“For once, that helps us.”
Vivian shook her head.
“You don’t understand.”
“What?”
“The office has a timed destruction system.”
Ben’s smile vanished.
“If David thinks police are coming, everything burns.”
I stared at her.
“How would he know?”
She looked toward the door.
“He always knows.”
As if summoned by the words, the fire alarm began ringing.
Leonard opened the conference room door.
Hotel staff rushed through the hall.
But there was no smoke.
Then Ben’s phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen.
His face changed.
“What?”
“The Mercer Foundation building.”
He turned the phone toward me.
Breaking news alert.
FIRE REPORTED IN DOWNTOWN FOUNDATION BUILDING.
Vivian went white.
“No.”
She stood.
“He’s destroying it.”
Dad looked at me.
I grabbed my coat.
But before I reached the door, another alert appeared.
Police activity.
One person found unconscious in an underground parking garage.
Name not yet released.
Then Leonard’s phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
Turned toward us.
“It’s Marcus.”
May you like
Vivian stopped breathing.
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