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Chapter 3

Autor: MAY SLIVER
last update Data de publicação: 2026-06-24 08:34:46

Vivienne's Pov

Roman didn’t leave until late that evening. We spoke in careful circles—him pressing for details, me giving him just enough to keep him on my side without revealing everything. I couldn’t afford to sound insane. Time travel. Murder in a future that hadn’t happened yet. No. He needed facts, documents, proof.

When his car finally pulled away down the drive, I let out a long breath and leaned against the front door.

Margaret was waiting in the sitting room.

“Explain yourself,” she said coldly.

I walked past her and poured a glass of water I didn’t want. “I think the legal notice explained it quite well.”

“You ungrateful little—” She stopped herself, smoothing her skirt. “After everything we’ve done for you.”

“Done for me?” I laughed once, sharp and bitter. “You mean stealing my identity? Paying people to forge records? Planning my quiet little removal when I got too close?”

Her face didn’t change much, but her knuckles whitened on the arm of the chair. “You’ve been listening to your grandmother’s ravings. She was unstable.”

“Was she?” I set the glass down. “Or did she simply know too much?”

Margaret stood. “Go to your room, Vivienne. We’ll discuss this when you’re calmer.”

I didn’t move. “I’m not a child anymore. And this time I won’t step aside.”

She studied me for a long moment. “You’ve changed.”

“You have no idea.”

I left her there and went upstairs, locking my bedroom door behind me. My hands were shaking as I pulled out the second copy of my list and hid it inside an old book. Sleep felt dangerous, but exhaustion won eventually.

I dreamed of the accident. Metal twisting. My sister’s voice on the phone. Darkness.

I woke up gasping at dawn.

The house was too quiet. I dressed quickly and went downstairs. The staff moved around me like shadows—whispering, avoiding my eyes. Something was wrong.

Father was home. I heard his voice in the study, low and angry. I crept closer.

“…can’t let this become public. Freeze the accounts if you have to. And find out who this Iris Lowe woman is working with.”

I backed away before they noticed me. My phone buzzed in my pocket—a new device I had bought yesterday with cash. Only one person had the number.

Iris.

I answered in the garden, hidden behind the rose hedges.

“They’re already moving,” she said without greeting. “Your mother’s lawyers filed an injunction this morning. But I have a judge who owes me favors. We need to meet. Today. There’s something in the hospital records you should see in person.”

“Send a car,” I told her. “I don’t trust ours.”

“Already on the way. Be careful, Vivienne. These people play dirty.”

“What exactly is in the hospital records?” I asked, keeping my voice low. “You mentioned something about my real mother last time. Is it proof? Names? I need to know how bad this really is.”

Iris sighed. “It’s more than proof. There are original birth entries that were overwritten. Payments to doctors who signed off on the forgeries. One of the nurses who was on duty that night is still alive. She’s willing to talk if we can guarantee her safety. This could blow the entire estate wide open, but we have to move fast before they bury it again.”

“I understand,” I whispered. “I’ll be ready. Just… make sure the driver is someone you trust completely.”

“I do. He used to work for a client who went through something similar. Keep your head down and don’t speak to anyone in the house before you leave. If anyone asks where you’re going, give them nothing. These walls have ears, Vivienne. Your family has eyes everywhere.”

“Do you really think they would try something so soon?” I asked. “I mean, with Roman involved now and the courts already looking…”

“People like your mother don’t wait for courts,” Iris replied sharply. “They create accidents. They buy silence. I’ve seen it before in families like yours. Stay alert. If anything feels wrong, call me immediately. I’ll have a backup ready.”

“Thank you, Iris. I don’t know what I would do without you on my side.”

“You’re paying me well, but more than that, I believe in justice. Get here safely. We’ll go through everything together.”

I slipped back inside to grab my bag. Clarissa was waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

“Where are you going?” she asked sweetly.

“Out.”

She stepped closer. “Roman called me last night after he left. He sounded… concerned about you. Said you weren’t making sense.”

My blood ran cold. Had he?

Clarissa smiled. “Families fix things, Vivienne. We always have. Don’t make me call in favors.”

I stared at her—the same face I had trusted once. “You already did that once before, didn’t you?”

For the first time, real confusion crossed her features. “What?”

“You heard me,” I said, my voice steady despite the anger rising in my chest. “How many favors have you called in over the years, Clarissa? How many people have you paid or threatened to keep your perfect little life intact? Was it easy for you? Watching me fade into the background while you took everything?”

She laughed lightly, but it sounded forced. “You’re being paranoid again. This inheritance nonsense has clearly affected your mind. Mother and I only want what’s best for the family. If you would just sit down with us and talk like reasonable adults, we could sort all of this out quietly. Roman doesn’t need to be dragged into our private matters.”

“Roman is already involved,” I shot back. “The original contract names me, not you. Did you really think no one would ever find out? Or did you believe your lies would hold forever?”

Clarissa’s eyes narrowed. “You’re making a terrible mistake. Walk away from this now and we can still fix it. Iris Lowe is dangerous. She digs up old ghosts that should stay buried. Think about what this will do to Father. To all of us. Do you really want to destroy our family name over some old papers Grandmother left behind?”

“I’ve thought about it,” I replied. “For a very long time. Longer than you know. And I’m done thinking. This time I’m acting. The family name was already destroyed the day you all decided to erase who I really am.”

“You’ll regret burning every bridge,” Clarissa warned, her sweet tone cracking. “When this blows up in your face, don’t come crying to me or Mother. We tried to protect you from the truth.”

“The truth doesn’t need protection,” I said. “It needs to come out.”

The sound of tires on gravel saved me. I pushed past her.

“Tell Mother I’ll be back for dinner,” I said.

As the car pulled away, I looked back at the house. Clarissa stood in the doorway watching me, phone already i

n her ear.

I turned forward. “Drive faster,” I told the driver.

We never made it to Iris’s office.

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