Chapter 6 - The Shadow of the Past
While Thatcher’s world collapsed, Vivian focused entirely on rebuilding her life with Sabina at the beach house. Sabina’s fever was completely gone, her cheeks rosy again, her laughter returning as she played in the soft ocean sand under the watchful eye of a dedicated nanny.
However, Vivian knew that a wounded beast is most dangerous when backed into a corner.
On Thursday afternoon, Marcus Vance visited the beach house, carrying a thick leather folder. He joined Vivian on the sun deck, where the ocean breeze blew softly.
“Thatcher’s legal team has filed a counter-motion,” Marcus reported, setting his coffee down. “His attorney—a high-priced corporate bulldog hired by his Uncle Richard—is claiming that you are mentally unstable and seeking sole legal custody of Sabina, along with spousal support and half of Vanguard Capital’s assets under community property laws.”
Vivian raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “On what grounds?”
“They are claiming that Vanguard’s growth during the five years of your marriage was a result of Thatcher’s corporate network and advisory role,” Marcus explained. “And they are using Beatrix’s testimony to argue that you neglected Sabina by removing her from her home during a stormy night.”
Vivian chuckled softly, a cold light dancing in her dark eyes. “Beatrix wants to play dirty in court? Then it’s time we open the private ledger.”
“The private ledger?” Marcus asked, leaning in.
“Five years ago, when I married Thatcher, his mother handed me a set of off-shore tax filings for the Ashford Family Foundation, asking me to ‘integrate’ them into Vanguard’s accounting,” Vivian said, setting her cup down. “I refused, of course. But I kept copies of those records. Beatrix and Uncle Richard have been running an illegal tax-evasion scheme through their charity foundation for over a decade, using Thatcher’s failed businesses to write off millions in fake losses.”
Marcus’s eyes widened. “Vivian... that’s federal fraud. If those documents are submitted to the IRS and the Department of Justice, Richard and Beatrix will be facing criminal indictments.”
“I gave that family five years of grace,” Vivian said, her voice dropping into a quiet, absolute stillness. “I tolerated their arrogance, their insults, and their greed. But when Thatcher stepped in front of that door and blocked me from saving my daughter, he burned the bridge. Hand the files to the federal prosecutors, Marcus.”
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“And what about the custody hearing tomorrow?” Marcus asked.
“I will be there in person,” Vivian said, looking out at Sabina playing on the sand. “And I will make sure Thatcher Ashford never lays a finger on my daughter’s future again.”
