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Fault Lines

Author: Narin Flast
last update Last Updated: 2026-01-28 20:21:56

Vivienne learned quickly what captivity looked like when it was wrapped in politeness.

It arrived as a schedule.

At seven in the morning, her phone chimed with reminders she hadn’t set—approved appointments, supervised meetings, prescribed “wellness breaks.” At eight, a driver waited downstairs. At nine, an assistant she didn’t recognize appeared with a tablet and a smile too practiced to be genuine.

“Good morning, Ms. Laurent. I’m Petra. I’ll be coordinating your day.”

Vivienne looked at the woman carefully. Petra couldn’t have been more than thirty, hair pulled into a severe bun, eyes alert. Not cruel. Just obedient.

“Coordinating,” Vivienne repeated.

“Yes. Under the conservatorship guidelines.”

There it was again. The word that had hollowed out her name.

Vivienne nodded once. “Of course.”

Inside, something tightened.

Laurent International felt different when she entered as a liability instead of an heir.

People avoided her eyes. Conversations lowered. Doors closed just a little f
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  • The Heiress in Glass   The First Crack

    Vivienne woke before dawn, the city still hushed beneath a thin veil of fog. For a few precious seconds, she forgot where she was—forgot the schedules, the watchers, the way her life had narrowed into approved corridors. Then she saw the faint red light of the security camera reflected in the glass wall across from her bed, and memory snapped back into place. She rose quietly, padding across the cold floor to the window. Below, the streets were nearly empty. The city looked vulnerable like this, stripped of noise and spectacle. Honest. She pressed her palm to the glass and breathed. Today, she would stop waiting. The first sign that things were shifting came at eight-thirty, when Petra arrived late. Not flustered—careful. Her smile was thinner than usual, her tablet clutched tighter against her chest. “There’s been a change,” Petra said once Vivienne was dressed and seated at the breakfast table. Vivienne sipped her coffee. “There always is.” Petra hesitated. “You’re not schedu

  • The Heiress in Glass   Fault Lines

    Vivienne learned quickly what captivity looked like when it was wrapped in politeness.It arrived as a schedule.At seven in the morning, her phone chimed with reminders she hadn’t set—approved appointments, supervised meetings, prescribed “wellness breaks.” At eight, a driver waited downstairs. At nine, an assistant she didn’t recognize appeared with a tablet and a smile too practiced to be genuine.“Good morning, Ms. Laurent. I’m Petra. I’ll be coordinating your day.”Vivienne looked at the woman carefully. Petra couldn’t have been more than thirty, hair pulled into a severe bun, eyes alert. Not cruel. Just obedient.“Coordinating,” Vivienne repeated.“Yes. Under the conservatorship guidelines.”There it was again. The word that had hollowed out her name.Vivienne nodded once. “Of course.”Inside, something tightened.⸻Laurent International felt different when she entered as a liability instead of an heir.People avoided her eyes. Conversations lowered. Doors closed just a little f

  • The Heiress in Glass   The Night They Took Everything

    The man at the door was not alone.Vivienne registered that first—the quiet weight of presence behind him, the faint shift of movement in the hallway. Two security officers stood a step back, faces professional, unreadable.Her heart didn’t race.It sank.“Ms. Laurent,” the man said gently, already apologetic. “I’m here on behalf of the board.”The words echoed too loudly in the penthouse.Vivienne tightened her robe around herself. “It’s after midnight.”“Yes,” he said. “I’m afraid that couldn’t be avoided.”She stepped aside.They entered like guests, like intruders, like inevitability.They sat at her dining table—glass, steel, impossibly clean. The city beyond the windows glittered, unaware.The man placed a folder in front of her.“Due to recent concerns raised regarding your emotional wellbeing and decision-making capacity,” he began, “the board has agreed to a temporary conservatorship—”Vivienne laughed.It burst out of her, sharp and incredulous.“You can’t be serious.”“I am

  • The Heiress in Glass   The Public Mask

    The headline went live at 7:03 a.m.Vivienne saw it before she even finished her coffee.LAURENT HEIRESS STRUGGLES TO FIND HER PLACE INSIDE FAMILY EMPIREThe photo beneath it was carefully chosen—Vivienne mid-blink, expression unfocused. The article itself was worse. Anonymous sources questioned her “emotional stability.” Her “lack of engagement.” Her “unsuitability for leadership.”Vivienne read it once.Then again.Her hands didn’t shake. That scared her more than if they had.Across the room, Daniel swore softly. “This is coordinated.”“She always uses the press when she wants blood,” Vivienne said calmly.Daniel stared at her. “You’re not reacting.”“That’s the point.”Inside, something twisted.Margaux had taken her time with this one.⸻The Board MeetingThe conference room buzzed with uneasy energy. Vivienne entered alone, chin lifted, dressed in ivory—unassuming, deliberate. Conversations faltered.Margaux sat at the head of the table, composed and serene.“Vivienne,” she said

  • The Heiress in Glass   The Cost of Defying

    The audit began quietly.Too quietly.Vivienne noticed the signs before anyone said a word—subtle delays, sudden requests for documents that hadn’t been relevant in years, whispered conversations that stopped when she entered a room.Margaux hadn’t lashed out.She’d smiled.And that frightened Vivienne more than open cruelty ever had.By the end of the week, the damage revealed itself.Elise stood in Vivienne’s office, hands clenched at her sides. “They’ve frozen three discretionary accounts tied to your personal foundation.”Vivienne stiffened. “On what grounds?”“Compliance irregularities,” Elise said. “They’re citing historical oversight.”Vivienne knew better.Margaux was dismantling her independence piece by piece.“They’re also reviewing staff access,” Elise added quietly. “Including me.”Vivienne closed her eyes.This was Margaux’s favorite tactic—isolating her, cutting away allies until only obedience remained.“Thank you for telling me,” Vivienne said. “No matter what happens

  • The Heiress in Glass   The First Move

    Vivienne Laurent had spent most of her life reacting.Reacting to expectations. Reacting to Margaux’s moods. Reacting to the silent pressure of a legacy she was never meant to touch.That ended on a quiet Tuesday morning.She stood alone in the private elevator of Laurent International, her reflection wavering in the mirrored walls. No entourage. No assistant. No permission.Just intent.When the doors opened onto the executive floor, a few heads turned. Murmurs followed her steps like distant echoes. Vivienne walked past them all and into a conference room she hadn’t been invited to in years.The room fell silent.Margaux sat at the head of the table, mid-sentence. Her smile froze.“Vivienne,” she said coolly. “This meeting is restricted.”Vivienne placed her folder on the table. “So is my future.”A few board members shifted uncomfortably.“I’m invoking my right as beneficiary,” Vivienne continued, voice steady. “I’ll be observing all negotiations related to the Harbor Initiative go

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