The storm had passed, but Vivienne's mind raged on. Rain lashed at the windows of the small mountain lodge where she, Mira, and Rhys had taken shelter. Mira's hand still trembled around her cup of tea, but her voice—when it came—was calm and resolute.
"They tried to kill me once," Mira said. "I thought disappearing was enough. I thought my silence would keep my daughter safe."
Vivienne sat across from her at the pinewood table, the fire crackling behind them. She had taken Rhys's pistol and placed it on the table beside the ledger, a silent promise to herself: this time, she would not be blindsided.
"They'll come again," Rhys warned from the corner, scanning the monitors he had set up. "They know we got away, and Holloway has eyes everywhere."
Vivienne nodded slowly. "Then we won't run. We strike."
Mira looked at her carefully. "You want to go public?"
"Eventually," Vivienne said. "But not yet. First, I need leverage. Something so damning that not even Arthur Rothsford can cover it up."
Mira sighed. "Then you'll need the Zurich file."
Vivienne blinked. "Zurich?"
Mira stood and walked to her bag. From it, she pulled a small silver key attached to a worn leather tag. "There's a safe deposit box under the name Callista Ward. Inside are the original contracts Holloway forged to funnel family assets offshore. That evidence could destroy them all."
Vivienne took the key, her fingers brushing the cool metal. "When can we leave?"
Rhys checked his watch. "Give me ten hours. I'll get you both on a secure flight to Zurich. In the meantime, we keep a low profile."
But low profile wasn't in Vivienne's blood anymore.
London, 4:00 a.m.
Ivy Rothsford stood in her bedroom, staring out at the Thames. Her hair was slicked back, her silk robe loosely tied. A glass of wine dangled in her hand as she listened to the quiet ticking of her antique clock.
Behind her, Gregory Holloway entered the room with a grim face.
"She got away," he said without preamble.
Ivy turned slowly, a smile playing at her lips. "Of course she did. She always was slippery."
"She has Mira."
Ivy's grip on the wineglass tightened. "And the ledger?"
"Gone. They took everything."
A long silence passed between them.
Then Ivy spoke again. "We underestimated her."
Holloway nodded. "We can't afford that again. If she reaches Zurich—"
"She won't," Ivy interrupted. "Call Jared. Activate the Zurich contact."
Holloway frowned. "That's extreme."
"So is what she's planning."
Zurich – 13 hours later
The plane touched down in a private hangar. Vivienne stepped off first, scarf wrapped tightly around her head, Mira beside her. Rhys kept close, eyes scanning for threats.
Their contact in Switzerland, a stoic man named Emil, escorted them to a waiting car. "The bank is expecting you, Miss Ward."
They arrived at a nondescript building nestled between corporate towers. The receptionist scanned the key and nodded, guiding them downstairs to a secure vault chamber.
The moment Vivienne turned the key, the box slid open with a soft hiss.
Inside was a small stack of original documents and a memory card.
Mira inhaled sharply. "These are it. Contracts bearing Rothsford Holdings' seals but signed by fake directors. Hidden under false subsidiaries. It's enough to implicate Holloway, Sutherland—and even your father."
Vivienne stared at the papers.
Arthur's signature was there. Her father's penmanship—elegant, commanding—on fraudulent contracts.
He'd known.
Her heart clenched. So he hadn't been deceived. He'd been complicit.
Mira's voice was soft. "I thought you suspected."
"I hoped I was wrong."
She closed the box, her fingers trembling. "This isn't just about revenge anymore. It's about justice."
Back at the hotel
While Mira rested, Vivienne sat with Rhys in the suite's lounge, files spread across the table.
"They'll kill her if we leak this all at once," Rhys said. "We need to be strategic. Leak a little. Force Holloway to panic. Watch where he runs. That's how you find the rest of the rats."
Vivienne nodded. "Start with a board leak. Show the paper trail to the media anonymously. But hold the Zurich files. We use them to bait Ivy and Holloway out of hiding."
Rhys pulled out a tablet. "There's another problem."
He tapped on a screen and brought up surveillance photos. One showed Jared Sutherland leaving a high-end London law firm two nights ago.
"Guess who owns the firm?" Rhys asked.
Vivienne leaned in. "Don't tell me—"
"Your father."
Vivienne's stomach twisted. The betrayal was layered. Her family hadn't just turned on her—they had sold the entire Rothsford legacy to outside forces.
And Ivy was the puppet smiling in front of the cameras while they pulled the strings behind her.
Vivienne stood, the fire in her veins roaring. "I want to talk to Jared."
Rhys arched a brow. "You think he'll meet with you?"
"He's ambitious and arrogant," she said. "He'll meet. Especially if I threaten to take Ivy's place beside him."
London – The Sutherland Estate
Jared Sutherland was waiting in his office, sleek and modern, filled with chrome, leather, and a wall-sized aquarium. When Vivienne stepped inside, he didn't rise—just watched her with cold amusement.
"Back from the dead, are we?" he said.
"I never died," Vivienne said, sitting across from him. "I just gave you all time to rot."
He chuckled. "You've grown teeth, I see. What do you want?"
"To offer you a deal."
Jared leaned forward, intrigued. "Go on."
"I have evidence that could ruin Holloway and Ivy. Offshore accounts. Forged contracts. But if I take them down, you go with them."
His smile froze.
Vivienne continued, "But if you help me leak information—if you sever ties now—you walk away clean. Maybe even take Holloway's position when the dust settles."
He laughed, but it didn't reach his eyes. "And you think I'd betray Ivy just like that?"
"I think you already have a backup plan," Vivienne said. "You're not loyal to her. You're loyal to your ambition."
For a moment, Jared said nothing.
Then, slowly, he smiled. "Send me a sample of what you have. I'll consider it."
Vivienne stood. "You have forty-eight hours. After that, I burn it all."
Back at the Rothsford Estate
Ivy slammed her phone onto the marble counter, face pale. "She met with Jared."
Holloway frowned. "He wouldn't betray us."
"He's already considering it," Ivy hissed. "We underestimated her again."
"We can still stop her," Holloway said. "But it's time to play our final card."
He handed her a file.
Ivy opened it—and her lips parted in shock.
Vivienne's school transcripts. Medical records. Surveillance photos from years ago.
"Where did you get these?" Ivy asked.
"I had someone digging into her past. There's something she doesn't know."
Ivy's eyes narrowed. "Then let's show her what happens when you dig too deep."
Meanwhile
Vivienne was back in her suite when Rhys handed her a letter.
"No return address. Delivered by hand."
She opened it carefully.
Inside was a single sentence on cream stationery:
"You were never meant to inherit anything, Vivienne. You're not even a Rothsford."
Attached was a birth certificate—hers—but the parents' names had been redacted.
She stared at it, heart racing.
"No," she whispered. "That's not possible."
But in her gut, she knew.
The mystery was deeper than betrayal. Deeper than fraud.
Her whole life had been a lie.