The Rothsford estate gleamed like a jewel in the dusk, its marble pillars casting long shadows across the courtyard. To any outsider, it was the perfect image of wealth and legacy. But to Vivienne, who had seen its rot from within, it was a palace of masks. Each room whispered of secrets. Each hallway echoed with betrayal.
She stood on the grand balcony, arms resting on the balustrade, eyes fixed on the horizon. Her mind wasn't at peace. It raced with questions. Gregory Holloway. Jared Sutherland. Ivy's mysterious rise. Her father's sudden favoritism. It was all connected—and it was time to dig deeper.
She turned from the view and entered the estate's west wing. It was a rarely used part of the mansion, once her sanctuary during childhood. Her mother had designed it—soft tapestries, vintage furniture, and warm lighting—but since her exile, it had been locked away, like a memory no one dared revisit.
Now, it was hers again.
She slid open the dusty armoire doors, revealing an old safe tucked behind a line of moth-eaten coats. She knelt and entered the code: her birthday. The lock clicked. Inside were journals, old flash drives, letters—items she'd stashed over the years during her grooming as the Rothsford heiress. Even in her youth, she'd documented everything: meetings, suspicious conversations, and business deals that seemed off.
She pulled out a drive labeled "Cypher" and plugged it into her tablet. Files loaded instantly—spreadsheets, board meeting recordings, scanned contracts. Most were dry, but a few stood out. One was an email chain between Arthur Rothsford and Gregory Holloway discussing offshore accounts under Rothsford Holdings' name—accounts Vivienne had never seen mentioned in the family ledgers.
Another was a video—a surveillance clip from six years ago. Vivienne clicked play.
The grainy footage showed a dimly lit lounge. Her father and Holloway sat in leather armchairs, drinks in hand. Ivy stood at the door, hesitant, until Holloway beckoned her in. Vivienne's heart pounded as she watched Holloway whisper something into Arthur's ear. Arthur stiffened. Ivy lowered her eyes.
The audio was too poor to decipher, but the body language was damning.
"She played him even then," Vivienne whispered, her fingers tightening around the tablet. "And Holloway orchestrated it."
She needed clarity—something or someone who could confirm her suspicions. And she had one name in mind.
Mira Zheng.
Mira had once been the family's lead forensic accountant, brilliant and incorruptible. She'd disappeared after Vivienne's exile, resigning quietly with a golden handshake. But Vivienne knew Mira—she wouldn't vanish unless she was forced. If anyone knew where the financial skeletons were buried, it was her.
Vivienne paced the study, then dialed Liam.
"We need to find Mira Zheng. She might be the key."
Liam didn't hesitate. "Already on it. Last known address was in Edinburgh. But she's been off-grid. I'll send someone to look into it."
"Make it fast. If Holloway and Sutherland are using offshore accounts and Ivy's a part of this, we need Mira to confirm the money trail."
"I'll get back to you within 24 hours."
Vivienne hung up and stared at the flickering fireplace, her jaw clenched. Time was running out.
The next morning
Vivienne was seated in the conservatory, sifting through more files, when Ivy strolled in. Gone was the simpering smile she used to wear in public. Here, in the privacy of their estate, her expression was icy and calculated.
"You've been busy," Ivy said, her voice laced with mock sweetness.
Vivienne didn't look up. "Unlike you, I work for what I want."
Ivy walked over, her heels clicking on the marble. "Funny. I don't remember you working hard for anything except Daddy's affection—and look where that got you."
Vivienne finally met her gaze. "Is that why you're here? To gloat?"
"No," Ivy said, lips curving slightly. "To warn you."
Vivienne raised an eyebrow.
"Stop poking around, Vivienne. You're out of your depth. There are forces at play that you don't understand."
Vivienne stood slowly, the fire in her eyes unmistakable. "You mean Holloway and Sutherland?"
Ivy's smile faltered for the briefest second. Then she stepped closer, dropping the façade. "You think you're smart, but you're still the outsider. They'll destroy you before you can expose anything."
Vivienne leaned in, her voice low. "They trained me to be the heir. Not you. I know this empire better than anyone—including you. And I don't care what shadows you're hiding behind, Ivy. I'll drag you all into the light."
For a second, they stood nose to nose—two reflections of the same fire. Then Ivy turned, composed once more, and walked away.
That evening
Liam called.
"We found her. Mira Zheng's in a safehouse in Scotland. But someone's already been sniffing around."
Vivienne's stomach sank. "Holloway?"
"Most likely. You need to get to her first. I've arranged a jet. It leaves in two hours."
Vivienne didn't hesitate. "Text me the coordinates. I'm going."
As she boarded the plane, she reviewed everything she had. If Mira could confirm the money trail between Holloway and Sutherland, if she could point out manipulated audits or forged documents—it would be the weapon Vivienne needed.
But she also knew time was short. If Holloway was trying to silence Mira, this trip might not just be urgent—it might be deadly.
Scotland – 1:43 a.m.
The landscape was a stretch of rugged cliffs and quiet forests. Mira's safehouse was a converted hunting lodge tucked behind a thick grove of trees, nearly invisible from the road. The air was cold, crisp with the scent of pine and stormclouds.
Vivienne stepped out of the SUV, pulling her coat tighter. Liam's contact, a former intelligence agent named Rhys, met her at the gate.
"She's inside. Spooked but willing to talk."
Vivienne nodded and stepped into the lodge. Mira was seated near a fireplace, older than Vivienne remembered, but her eyes were just as sharp.
"Vivienne," she said quietly. "I never thought I'd see you again."
"Likewise," Vivienne replied. "But I need your help."
Mira gestured for her to sit. "I know. You're digging into Holloway and the Sutherland ties."
"You know?"
Mira nodded, her hands clasped. "I was forced to doctor the Rothsford Holdings ledgers. The offshore accounts were hidden through layers of shell companies registered to fake identities. All at Holloway's instruction. When I threatened to come forward, they made me disappear."
"Do you have proof?"
Mira pulled out a leather-bound ledger, followed by a portable hard drive. "These are copies. They show how Ivy's sudden rise was financed. Holloway funneled millions into her account through a Monaco trust fund, in Jared Sutherland's name."
Vivienne felt a jolt run through her. "Can we trace it?"
"Yes. And if you go public with it, you can tear them down. But you'll be in danger."
"I already am," Vivienne whispered.
But danger had already arrived.
A shot rang out.
Vivienne dove to the floor as the window behind Mira exploded in shards. Rhys stormed in, weapon drawn, barking orders. Mira clutched the ledger to her chest. "Go! Take this and run!"
"No!" Vivienne yelled, grabbing Mira. "You're coming with me!"
Outside, tires screeched. Rhys threw open a back door and motioned them through. They raced down a path toward a hidden vehicle.
"They found us," Mira gasped. "Holloway must've—"
"I won't let them silence you," Vivienne said, teeth gritted. "Not again."
They jumped into the car, Rhys flooring it as headlights followed them. The chase was brutal, narrow roads slick with rain, bullets tearing through the trees.
Vivienne didn't let go of the ledger. It was everything.
Two hours later
They were safe. Hidden again.
Vivienne sat beside Mira, still catching her breath. "We need to expose them. Not just the board—Sutherland, Holloway, Ivy. All of them."
Mira nodded. "I'll testify. But only if you protect my daughter. They threatened her once."
"She'll be under my care," Vivienne promised. "You have my word."
Mira looked at her—really looked—and smiled. "You've changed, Vivienne. You're not the scared girl they cast aside. You're ready."
Vivienne nodded, steel in her eyes. "I'm not just ready. I'm coming for everything they stole."