Chapter 7 - Vivienne Told Me What My Father Had Done
Vivienne looked nothing like herself.
Her left wrist was bandaged.
There was a bruise near her temple.
Her expensive clothes were gone.
She wore a hospital sweatshirt someone had given her.
When I entered, she laughed softly.
“Of course you came.”
“You framed me inside my own marriage.”
“I know.”
“You helped Grant steal my shares.”
“I know.”
“You watched him hit me.”
Her eyes filled.
“I know.”
I stopped beside the bed.
“I’m not here to make you feel better.”
“I wouldn’t believe you if you tried.”
“Where is my father?”
Fear crossed her face.
“I don’t know.”
“What happened?”
Vivienne stared toward the window.
“Jonathan realized I sent you the video.”
“How?”
“I made the mistake of using an account he knew existed.”
“And?”
“He sent someone.”
“Martin?”
“No.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know his name.”
She swallowed.
“I got away.”
I studied her.
“How did you end up working for Jonathan?”
“After Eleanor fired me, nobody would hire me.”
Mom had admitted that much.
“I lost my apartment.”
Vivienne continued.
“My engagement ended.”
“That wasn’t my fault.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“But hatred doesn’t care who deserves it.”
At least she understood something.
“Jonathan found me two years later.”
“How?”
“He had been watching everyone involved.”
“He recruited you.”
“Yes.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That Eleanor and Arthur had stolen his company.”
“And you believed him.”
“For years.”
“What changed?”
“Grant.”
I stared.
“That’s ironic.”
“He was supposed to be useful.”
“Instead you slept with him.”
“Yes.”
No excuse.
No apology.
Just yes.
“I started seeing how Jonathan manipulated him.”
“How?”
“He would give Grant one piece of information, wait for him to panic, then offer a solution.”
Exactly what Dad had tried with me.
Vivienne continued.
“Jonathan never wanted Grant to own Mercer.”
“What did he want?”
“For Grant to vote through the Aurelian sale.”
“And then?”
“Destroy him.”
Grant had always been disposable.
“What about me?”
Vivienne looked down.
“That changed.”
“What changed?”
“Jonathan originally wanted you to keep a minority interest.”
“How generous.”
“Then he learned Arthur’s original codicil still existed.”
My pulse jumped.
“He has it?”
“No.”
“Who does?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why my locket?”
Vivienne’s eyes lifted.
“He gave it to you because it contains a key.”
I stared.
“A physical key?”
“Not exactly.”
“What then?”
“A code.”
She explained.
My locket had been custom-made.
Inside the decorative engraving were twelve tiny numbers.
A deposit identifier.
“Deposit for what?”
“A private vault Arthur maintained in Switzerland.”
I thought of Martin’s photograph with Dad and Grandpa outside a Geneva bank.
“The original codicil.”
“Maybe.”
“What else?”
Vivienne hesitated.
“That is what Jonathan is afraid of.”
“What?”
“Arthur recorded everything.”
My skin prickled.
“Meetings?”
“Transactions.”
“Names?”
“Yes.”
“Jonathan’s?”
“Yes.”
“Martin’s?”
“Yes.”
“So Dad doesn’t want the vault opened.”
“Not unless he controls what comes out.”
“And Friday?”
“If the Aurelian sale closes before you access the vault, Martin and Jonathan can argue everything inside relates to an entity that no longer belongs to you.”
“Convenient.”
“Very.”
I stepped closer.
“Who forged my signature?”
Vivienne looked away.
“You.”
Her eyes snapped toward me.
“I helped.”
My chest tightened.
“How?”
“I obtained samples.”
“You copied it?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“Peter Lang arranged someone.”
“The notary.”
“Yes.”
“Name.”
“I never knew.”
“Did Grant know?”
“No.”
That actually fit.
“Did Dad?”
“Yes.”
There it was.
My own father had approved forging my name.
I looked toward the door.
Vivienne spoke quickly.
“Claire.”
I stopped.
“The locket wasn’t taken by Martin.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Jonathan already has it.”
My breath caught.
“What?”
“He showed it to me three days ago.”
“How did he get it?”
Vivienne looked sick.
“He said Eleanor gave it to him.”
I stared.
“That’s impossible.”
“Ask her.”
“She looked shocked when it was missing.”
“Your mother is very good at looking shocked.”
I hated how believable that sounded.
Vivienne reached for my wrist.
I pulled away.
“Don’t.”
She withdrew her hand.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Jonathan doesn’t plan to leave after Friday.”
“What does that mean?”
“He intends to come back publicly.”
My heart thudded.
“As Jonathan Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“That would expose the fake death.”
“He doesn’t care anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because once Aurelian owns the assets, he can claim Eleanor forced him into hiding.”
The perfect victim story.
“He’ll blame Mom.”
“Yes.”
“And Martin?”
Vivienne’s eyes hardened.
“Jonathan plans to blame everything on Martin.”
Of course.
Every man in this story believed everyone else was expendable.
I left the room understanding one thing.
Grant had betrayed our marriage.
Vivienne had betrayed my family.
Martin had betrayed my grandfather.
But Jonathan Mercer had betrayed something deeper.
He had allowed his daughter to mourn him for eighteen years.
And now he was trying to steal the inheritance my grandfather created to protect me from him.
May you like
I wasn’t going to beg him for answers anymore.
I was going to make him give them to me.
