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PROOF AND PANIC

Author: Grace Pearl
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-07-23 21:58:27

POV: VIVIAN

I don’t knock. I don’t text. I don’t do any of the polite shit we usually do when we’re trying to pretend this world is normal.

The elevator doors open directly into her penthouse, and I walk straight in.

I’m shaking. Not crying, not scared. Just vibrating with the kind of rage that comes from disbelief wrapped in a smile. The manila envelope in my hand is already crumpled at the edges, the flap torn open from how hard I ripped it.

She’s standing at the window, as always. Watching the city like it owes her something. She turns slowly. Calm. Too calm.

"Vivian."

"Rourke gave it to her."

I throw the envelope onto the kitchen island like it burns me.

She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. Just walks over, picks it up like it’s a grocery receipt, and flips through it.

"I know," she says quietly.

That’s it. That’s all.

I slam my hands on the marble counter. "You knew?"

She finally looks up at me. Her face is blank. That blank she does when she’s barely holding it together. When she
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  • HEIRESS REBORN   PROOF AND PANIC

    POV: VIVIANI don’t knock. I don’t text. I don’t do any of the polite shit we usually do when we’re trying to pretend this world is normal.The elevator doors open directly into her penthouse, and I walk straight in.I’m shaking. Not crying, not scared. Just vibrating with the kind of rage that comes from disbelief wrapped in a smile. The manila envelope in my hand is already crumpled at the edges, the flap torn open from how hard I ripped it.She’s standing at the window, as always. Watching the city like it owes her something. She turns slowly. Calm. Too calm."Vivian.""Rourke gave it to her."I throw the envelope onto the kitchen island like it burns me.She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. Just walks over, picks it up like it’s a grocery receipt, and flips through it."I know," she says quietly.That’s it. That’s all.I slam my hands on the marble counter. "You knew?"She finally looks up at me. Her face is blank. That blank she does when she’s barely holding it together. When she

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    POV: ELENA CROSSI don’t look up right away when Rourke walks in. He knows better than to interrupt me when I’m in the middle of briefing notes—especially ones this sensitive. But he lingers. That always means something."Well?" I ask, finally, setting my glass down without taking a sip. "You didn’t come in here just to breathe in my air."He doesn’t answer. Just sets the envelope on the edge of the desk. Manila. Folded once, sharp corner slightly crushed. No label."What is it?""You should see it for yourself, ma’am."He only calls me ma’am when he’s nervous.I open it slowly, more out of habit than curiosity. I’ve seen a thousand of these in my lifetime. Dossiers, blackmail, threats, assets, affairs, leverage. Politics is built on manila envelopes. But this one… this one bites back.The first thing I see is a picture. Grainy. Dark lighting. A woman’s face, part of it swollen, features distorted, hair limp and damp around her cheek. She looks half-dead. Or maybe that’s the point.I

  • HEIRESS REBORN   LINES CROSSED

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