Chapter 2

Roman Pov 

The contract lay on my desk like evidence from a crime scene.

I had read it three times already. The original betrothal agreement between the Ashworth and Steele families clearly named Vivienne, not Clarissa. Signed, sealed, witnessed. My father’s bold signature at the bottom. And yet for three years I had been told it was dissolved. Vivienne had stepped aside willingly because her sister and I were “in love.”

Love. What a convenient lie.

I picked up the phone again and dialed the Ashworth house. When Clarissa answered, her voice was tight. Good. Let her be uncomfortable.

“Put Vivienne on,” I said.

A pause. Then Vivienne’s voice came through, quieter than I expected, but steady.

“I’m listening.”

I leaned back in my chair, staring out at the city skyline. “My legal team pulled the original documents this afternoon. Care to explain why I was never shown this contract?”

Silence stretched between us. I waited.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” she finally said. “They made it seem like I wanted out. I believed them… for a while.”

Something in her tone made the back of my neck prickle. She sounded different. Older, somehow. Wiser.

“Vivienne, I’ve known your family for years. Contracts like this don’t just vanish. Someone went to a lot of trouble to hide it. Was it Margaret?”

She hesitated. “It was all of them. Mother convinced me it was the right thing. She said Clarissa loved you and that I… I was in the way. I thought I was being kind.”

“Kind?” I let out a harsh laugh. “They rewrote an agreement that bound two families for decades, and you call that kindness? I deserve the truth from you. No more filtered versions.”

“I’m trying, Roman. This isn’t easy for me either. Everything I thought I knew about my place in this family is crumbling. I’ve been quiet for so long, accepting whatever they told me. But not anymore.”

Her voice cracked just slightly on the last words. I gripped the phone tighter.

“I’m coming over,” I told her. “Don’t let them talk you out of seeing me.”

“Roman….”

“Don’t,” I cut in. “Whatever game your family is playing ends today.”

I hung up before she could reply and grabbed my coat. My driver had the car ready in minutes. As we sped toward the Ashworth estate, I kept thinking about the last time I had seen Vivienne properly. She had always been in the background, quiet, uncomplaining. I had accepted the switch to Clarissa without much fight because it was easier. Business. Alliances. Feelings didn’t matter.

Halfway there, I dialed my lead attorney. “Marcus, any updates on the supporting files?”

“Sir, we’ve got certified copies of the original contract and the financial trails linked to the amendments. Someone paid heavily to alter records. We’re talking six figures, possibly more. This could get ugly if the Ashworths fight back.”

“Let them,” I replied. “I want every document ready by morning. And dig deeper into Vivienne’s background. Something feels off about all of this.”

“Understood. Be careful over there.”

The estate gates opened for me without question. Margaret met me in the foyer, face tight with forced politeness.

“Roman, darling. This is unexpected. Can I offer you something to drink? Tea? Or perhaps a whiskey after your long drive?”

“Where’s Vivienne?” I asked, ignoring the pleasantries.

She hesitated, glancing toward the staircase. “She’s resting. It’s been a stressful day for all of us. Perhaps we should sit down and discuss this like civilized people. These legal matters can be resolved quietly, without involving outsiders.”

“Margaret, I’ve seen the original contract. The one named Vivienne. Don’t insult my intelligence by pretending this is just a misunderstanding.”

Before she could answer, Vivienne appeared at the top of the grand staircase. She wore a simple blue dress, hair loose around her shoulders. Nothing flashy. Yet she looked… resolved.

“We’ll talk in the library,” she said.

Margaret started to protest, her voice sharpening. “Vivienne, this isn’t appropriate. Roman, please, let me explain…..”

I was already moving. Vivienne closed the heavy oak doors behind us. The room smelled of old books and tension.

“You filed an inheritance dispute,” I said without preamble. “Using our original contract as supporting evidence.”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Why now?”

Vivienne walked to the window, looking out at the gardens. “Because I finally learned the truth. About who I am. About what they took from me.” She turned back. Her eyes were clear and unafraid. “And about what they’ll do to keep it.”

A chill ran through me. “What do you mean by that? Vivienne, if there are threats involved, tell me. I can protect you, but I need details. Who exactly is behind this? Your mother? Clarissa? How deep does it go?”

She opened her mouth to answer.

The library doors burst open. Clarissa stood there, breathing hard, eyes wild in a way I had never seen.

“Vivienne, stop this right now,” she snapped. “You’re going to ruin everything.”

Vivienne smiled faintly, the saddest smile I’d ever seen.

“Too late, sister. It’s already ruined.”

Clarissa stepped closer, voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “You don’t know what you’re starting. Walk away while you still can.”

I moved between them instinctively. “Threatening her in front of me isn’t smart, Clarissa. What exactly are you afraid of? The contract? Or whatever else you’ve all been hiding?”

She looked at me then, and for a moment the mask slipped completely. “You have no idea what she really is, Roman. None. She’s unstable. She’s always been jealous, making up stories to get attention. You can’t trust her.”

Vivienne’s voice cut through the silence like a blade.

“Tell him the truth, Clarissa. Or I will.”

Clarissa’s face went pale. She took one step back, then another.

“You’ll regret this,” she hissed, and fled the room.

I turned to Vivienne. “What truth?”

She met my gaze, and somethin

g in her expression made my stomach drop.

“The kind of truth that gets people killed,” she whispered.