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CHAPTER 8: THE BOARDROOM
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2026-07-18 21:36:24
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The Billionaires Greatest Regret CHAPTER 179: MRS. PRUITT'S FRONT ROOM
POV: Anya Petrova "You've his mouth," the old woman said. "Anyone ever tell you that?" "A few people, lately," said Vivienne. "Well, they were right." Mrs. Dorothea Pruitt peered at her over the rim of a teacup. She was ninety-one, tiny, bright-eyed, with a cloud of white hair and a cardigan the color of oatmeal. Her front room in Dayton smelled of lemon polish and old books. A clock ticked on the mantel. "He had a way of pressing his lips together when he was trying not to say a thing. You've got it exactly." They sat on a faded floral sofa. Anya sat beside Vivienne with her hands folded, silent. She had asked to come. She had said, in the car, that she needed to see the places, and then she had said nothing else for two hours. "This is my sister," Vivienne said. "Anya." "I thought she might be." Mrs. Pruitt smiled warmly. "I've been wondering for forty years if I'd ever meet one of his girls. I'm so glad it's both." Anya's head turned sharply. "You knew about me?" "Of course
The Billionaires Greatest Regret CHAPTER 178: A ROOM IN THE HOUSE
POV: Vivienne Ashford "You told her what?" Maya said. "On the phone? Over soup?" "I told her we would like to meet her," Vivienne said. "That's all." "And she said?" "She said she would think about it." "For how long?" "For as long as she needs." Maya flopped backward onto the guest-room bed and stared at the ceiling. It was late. The Westchester house had gone quiet around them, the others asleep or pretending. Rain tapped the window. Vivienne sat at the dressing table, brushing her hair in slow strokes, watching her daughter in the mirror. "It's a lot," Maya said at last. "I know." "A sister. Another one. I just got the brother who hates us in a good way, and now there's an aunt." "Alexei does not hate us." "He glares." "That's how he says hello." "Mom." Maya rolled onto her side and propped her chin on her fist. "Are you okay? Really?" Vivienne set down the brush. She looked at her own reflection, at the fine lines at the corners of her eyes, the silver at her temple
The Billionaires Greatest Regret CHAPTER 177: THE NURSE AT THE CLINIC
POV: Vivienne Ashford "She is on shift until six," the receptionist said. "You are welcome to wait." The Clinique des Crêts sat above the lake on a wooded slope, a white modern building with wide glass doors and a garden of clipped box hedges. It smelled of lavender and antiseptic. A fountain in the lobby trickled over smooth stones. Vivienne stood at the desk in her good coat, her hands clenched around her bag, and tried to remember how to breathe. "I'll wait," she said. "May I tell her who is asking?" "Tell her..." She stopped. What was the sentence? *I am your father's other daughter.* *I am the reason you grew up without him.* *I am sorry.* "Tell her a woman named Vivienne has something that belonged to her father." The receptionist frowned politely. "She does not speak of her father." "I know." "She may not wish to see you." "I know that too." Roman touched her elbow. "I'll be in the car." "Stay." "You'll want to do this alone." "I don't want to do it at all," she sa
The Billionaires Greatest Regret CHAPTER 176: THE LETTER FOR VIVIENNE
POV: Vivienne Ashford "It's a lot of paper for a man who taught English," Roman said. "He taught English for thirty-one years. That's a great deal of grading." Vivienne did not look up. She sat cross-legged on the hotel carpet with the manila folder open before her and its contents fanned out in careful rows, like a game of patience. Photographs, letters, a faded passport page, a yellow telegram. The curtains were drawn against the afternoon. "Don't tell me it's thin. It's the thickest thing I've ever had in my hands." He lowered himself to the floor beside her with a grunt. His knees were no more forgiving than hers. For a minute neither of them spoke. A tram rattled somewhere far below, its bell thin and bright. "Tell me what you've got," he said. "Dates first." She tapped the passport page. "Daniel Marsh. Born 1948, Dayton, Ohio. Entered the Soviet Union on the second of September, 1983, on a cultural exchange visa. A teaching placement at a school in Moscow. Left on the ninet
The Billionaires Greatest Regret CHAPTER 175: THE LAKE AND THE FOLDER
POV: Vivienne Ashford"You can't take it with you," Roman said. "That's the point of scattering.""I know the point." Katya sat on the stone wall of the lakeside promenade, a small brass urn in her lap, the wind lifting her hair. "I am only saying I did not expect it to be so heavy.""It's four pounds.""Not the urn."He sat down beside her. Below the wall, Lake Geneva stretched away gray and silver under a low sky, the far shore a smear of pale hills, a single white ferry cutting a long wake. It was early. Joggers passed on the path behind them. A swan drifted by, indifferent.Alexei stood a few steps off with his hands in his pockets and his collar turned up. He had not said much since they arrived. Vivienne, a short distance away, watched the three of them from a bench, with a blanket over her knees and a paper cup of coffee in both hands. She had told them she would not intrude. She had come anyway."She was not a good woman," Alexei said."No," said Roman."I wish to say it plain
The Billionaires Greatest Regret CHAPTER 174: NO SIGNATURE
POV: Vivienne Ashford"Hold the pressure," the paramedic said. "Harder. Like this."Oliver held it. His hands were red to the wrist. Anton Hale lay on the cot in the cramped flat above the watchmaker, his raincoat cut open, his lips the color of ash. The paramedic worked with brisk, silent efficiency, a Swiss woman in a yellow jacket with a braid down her back. Behind her stood two police officers and an ambulance driver, and behind them, in the open doorway, Grace, who had run up four flights without remembering how."Uncle Anton," Oliver said. "Look at me.""I am looking.""Stay awake.""I'm trying. It's very warm in here.""It's not warm.""No?" Anton's eyes drifted toward the ceiling. "I thought it was. I thought it was summer. I was in the yard behind the old house in Maine, and you were standing on the porch with a fishing rod taller than you.""I was six.""You had a sunburn. Right across the nose.""You gave me your hat.""Did I?" A faint smile. "I don't remember that.""I do,
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