Chapter 6 - The Mask Falls
Vivian walked slowly into the center of the room, her high heels making a sharp, deliberate sound against the hardwood floor. She didn't look afraid. She looked like a predator that had simply been forced to strike a few hours earlier than planned.
"Leave us, Richard," she commanded softly.
Vance didn't need to be told twice. He practically bolted out of the study, slamming the heavy oak door behind him.
I stayed behind my desk, my hand resting near the hidden button that recorded audio directly to Stern’s off-site server.
"You're very clever, Arthur," Vivian said, leaning against the leather sofa. "I really thought your medical empire took up so much of your little mind that you wouldn't notice until it was far too late."
"Why, Vivian?" I asked, forcing my voice to remain even. "You had everything. Wealth, status, a home, two beautiful, healthy sons who loved you. Why poison our children? Why try to ruin my life?"
Vivian let out a sharp, mocking laugh that sent chills down my spine.
"Healthy sons?" she sneered, her eyes gleaming with disgust. "They are weak, Arthur! Just like you! Crying over a common nanny! Clinging to your pant legs! They don't have the stomach for real power! My family has run this state's political machine for fifty years, and I will not let ninety million dollars of medical assets be handed down to two soft, sniveling little boys who cry at the sound of raised voices!"
"So you were going to institutionalize them," I said. "Declare them incompetent, declare me unfit, and take total control of the trust."
"I was going to do what was necessary to secure my legacy," Vivian said, taking a step toward the desk. "And you can't stop me, Arthur."
"I have the toxicology reports," I reminded her. "I have Maya’s statement. I have Vance’s bank records."
Vivian smiled—that same terrifying, beautiful smile she had worn when the police led Maya away in handcuffs.
"Do you know where my father is right now, Arthur?" she asked softly. "He’s having dinner with the State Attorney General. By six o'clock tonight, a emergency petition for temporary custody and medical guardianship will be signed by Judge Miller—my father's former law partner."
"On what grounds?" I demanded.
"On the grounds that you have suffered an acute psychotic break due to executive burnout," Vivian said, pulling her phone from her pocket. "I’ve already filed statements from three of your domestic staff claiming you’ve been hallucinating, acting aggressively toward the children, and threatening violence against me. Combine that with Vance’s official diagnosis of Ethan and Caleb, and no judge in this state will let you within five hundred feet of those boys."
She tapped her phone screen.
"By tomorrow night at the charity gala," Vivian added, her voice dropping to a triumphant whisper, "you will be checked into a private psychiatric facility in Pennsylvania, and I will be the sole trustee of Hale Medical."
I stared at her, feeling the terrifying scope of the trap she had built around me over two long years. She had corrupted the doctors, paid off the staff, influenced the courts, and leveraged her family's political network.
May you like
She thought she had played checkmate.
What she didn't know was that I had spent the last seven hours playing a completely different game.
