Chapter 4: Impossible

Vivienne

By the time I reached Vale Tower, Lucian had turned the top floor into a war room.

Three men stood around the conference table while screens displayed transaction histories, call logs, and a photograph of Grant Mercer entering the Bellmont.

Lucian dismissed the others after I entered and slid a photograph toward me.

“Tell me who Adrian Keller is.”

“Senior adviser to the Al-Masri family.”

“Was.”

I looked down at the headline beneath Keller’s photograph. He had disappeared from his London apartment the previous evening.

“This is wrong.”

“According to your future?”

“He was not missing. Keller testified against you years later, after Damien’s attack on Vale Capital had already done serious damage.”

Lucian turned one of the screens toward me.

“Mercer appeared exactly when you predicted. The forged reports existed, and the Cyprus account received eight million dollars at eleven forty-six last night. Damien’s holding company is three layers removed from it.”

“Then you know I told you the truth.”

“I know your information was accurate. I still want to know where it came from.”

“I already told you.”

“You told me you lived through five years that have not happened.”

“I did.”

“I run a company that employs twelve thousand people. I cannot restructure operations because someone appears in my office claiming she returned from the dead.”

“Then do not. Verify everything I give you.”

“I called you because Keller disappeared.”

“And you think I caused that?”

“I think something changed.”

I went to the screen showing the timeline. “When did anyone last see him?”

“Yesterday evening, before the money moved.”

“What changed before Keller disappeared?”

“You canceled your wedding. You contacted me, warned me about Mercer, and I began investigating earlier than Damien expected.”

“So we disrupted the sequence.”

“Possibly, which means your knowledge becomes less reliable every time we act on it.”

I hated that he had reached the conclusion I had been resisting.

“Less reliable does not mean useless.”

“No, but it means Damien may stop following the path you remember.”

“I know.”

“And you may not know what happens next.”

“I know that too.”

“Good.”

I frowned at him.

“I have no interest in building a strategy that depends entirely on prophecy.”

“It is not prophecy.”

“You can call it whatever you prefer. I intend to treat it as intelligence: useful when verified and dangerous when trusted blindly.”

His phone rang before I could answer. He listened for less than a minute, then turned a financial news alert toward me.

ASHFORD GROUP FILES BREACH-OF-CONTRACT CLAIM AGAINST STERLING HOLDINGS.

Another headline beneath it announced that Sterling’s credit facility was under review.

“He moved early,” I said.

“Did this happen before?”

“After the wedding. He had no reason to expose himself this soon because he already had access through me.”

My father called.

“First National froze the expansion facility,” he said when I answered.

“How much?”

“Four hundred million. Ashford’s team is alleging we breached the strategic merger agreement without cause. Our attorneys can fight it, but lenders are nervous.”

“Do not agree to anything.”

“I was not planning to.”

“Where are you?”

“Headquarters.”

“I am coming.”

“No. If Damien is trying to push us into panic, we do not give him what he wants. Stay where you are and figure out why you went there in the first place.”

I glanced at Lucian. “Call me if anything changes.”

“I will.”

When the call ended, Lucian said, “You need capital.”

“Sterling Holdings is not bankrupt.”

“I did not say it was. If the lender review spreads to your other facilities, Sterling loses leverage in every negotiation currently underway.”

“You already checked our position.”

“I looked before you arrived.”

Of course he had. Lucian had known me for barely two days, yet he had already examined the weakness in my family's finances because he refused to enter any alliance without knowing precisely what it might cost him.

I could not decide whether that made him safer than Damien or simply more honest about being dangerous.

“What do you want?”

“That is the correct question.”

“I knew Damien would attack us.”

“Not this early.”

“No.”

“Then stop treating your memories as protection.”

I wanted to argue, but the last forty-eight hours had already proved him right.

“I watched the man suing my father stand above a cliff while I burned less than two days ago. I am aware that my judgment may require adjustment.”

Lucian stopped reaching for his coffee.

“Did you see him at the crash?”

“Yes.”

“Damien?”

“And Celeste.”

“Who is Celeste?”

“His mistress.”

“Was she involved?”

“She was there.”

“How?”

“I do not know everything. I remember what happened to me. I was Damien’s wife, not his accountant, his security chief, or his partner in crime.”

Lucian did not press further.

“There is one thing I can do immediately. Vale Capital can publicly back Sterling with a strategic credit guarantee. Damien is relying on isolation to create leverage. My name beside yours calms the lenders.”

“And what do you get?”

“A useful ally.”

“You mean me.”

“I mean Sterling Holdings.”

“You are lying.”

“I am being precise. You happen to be part of Sterling Holdings.”

Before I could answer, his phone vibrated. He checked the message and handed it to me.

The photograph showed one of Sterling Holdings’ senior executives entering a private club beside Damien’s chief legal officer.

“When was this taken?”

“Twenty minutes ago.”

In my first life, that executive had remained loyal to my father for another year.

“He should not have turned yet.”

“Apparently, he has different plans this time.”

I handed the phone back.

“We stop reacting,” Lucian said.

“What do you suggest?”

“We give Damien something larger to react to. Before that, I want access to every future event you remember involving my company.”

“No.”

“Then there is no deal.”

“I am not handing you five years of my memories while you still consider the possibility that I am working for Damien.”

“You were correct about Mercer.”

“That earned you a conversation, not ownership of my life.”

His mouth curved briefly. “You negotiate well when cornered.”

“I learned from expensive mistakes.”

He considered that and nodded once. “You give me information in stages. I verify it, and trust increases with accuracy.”

“And Sterling?”

“I stabilize the immediate credit problem.”

“What do you want in return?”

“For now, nothing.”

“Men like you never want nothing.”

“You are beginning to understand me.”

An email from my father’s chief financial officer interrupted us.

EMERGENCY BOARD SESSION — 8:00 A.M.

The list beneath it showed the directors requesting a vote to suspend my father’s authority while the Ashford litigation continued.

I knew every name.

In my first life, Damien had needed eighteen months to turn those people against my father. This time he had done it in two days.

Lucian read the email and returned my phone.

“Your father loses that vote with those numbers.”

“I will not let that happen.”

“Then you need more than a credit guarantee. You need something Damien cannot attack without declaring war on me as well.”

“What are you proposing?”

“A union he cannot ignore.”

“You mean a business partnership.”

“I mean marriage.”