I showed the message to Clara first.
She read it, set the phone down, and said nothing for three seconds. That was Clara's version of shock.
"How did she get your number?" Victor asked.
"I don't know." I picked the phone back up. "But it tells us something. She's not going through Damien. She's coming directly to me, which means she either knows more than we thought or she's rattled enough to move without thinking it through."
"Don't meet her," Clara said.
"I'm going to meet her."
"Elena-"
"She reached out to me. That means she wants something or she's afraid of something. Either way I need to know which one it is." I looked at Victor. "Can you have someone track her movements for the next twenty four hours? I want to know if she meets with Richard again before she meets with me."
Victor picked up his phone without a word.
I typed back two words. *When. Where.*
Her response came in under a minute. Coffee shop in Midtown. Tomorrow at noon. She sent the address.
I confirmed and put my phone away.
Clara was looking at me with the expression she reserved for decisions she disagreed with but knew she couldn't talk me out of. "If she's working with Richard, this could be a setup."
"Then we treat it like one. You'll be there. Different table, close enough." I looked at her. "And pull everything you can find on Vivienne before tomorrow. Not the public profile. The real one. Who she owes, who owes her, what she's been doing in London for the past year."
Clara nodded and opened her laptop.
I left the conference room and took the elevator up two floors to the office Victor had given me. It was large and overlooked the east side of the city and it still didn't feel like mine yet. I sat behind the desk and looked at the skyline and thought about Vivienne Lau for the first time without flinching.
For three years she had lived in my marriage like a shadow I couldn't touch. I used to lie awake constructing versions of her. Beautiful, obviously. Confident in the way women are when they've never had to question whether they were wanted. I had imagined confronting her a hundred times and in every version I said something devastating and walked away clean.
The reality was she had texted me four words and I had texted back two and we were meeting for coffee tomorrow like two professionals with a scheduling conflict.
That was fine. Clean confrontations were for women who still had something to prove.
---
She was already there when I arrived.
Vivienne Lau in person was exactly what I expected and somehow still managed to be disorienting. She was the kind of beautiful that read as effortless, which meant she had worked very hard to make it look that way. She was sitting with her back to the wall, which told me she had also chosen the table deliberately.
I sat across from her.
She looked at me the way people look at someone they've been trying to picture for a long time and are now quietly recalibrating. I understood the feeling. I kept my face neutral.
"You look different," she said.
"From what?"
"From the photos." She picked up her coffee cup. "Damien had one on his desk for a while. After the wedding."
"One is more than I expected," I said.
She almost smiled. "I'm not here to fight with you."
"I know. You're here because something shifted and you're trying to figure out how much I know and whether I'm a problem you need to solve before Richard solves it for you."
That landed. She set her cup down. "Richard doesn't speak for me."
"You met with him two days ago for almost two hours."
The look that crossed her face was brief but real. She hadn't known we had that. She recovered quickly, which told me she was good under pressure, but the recovery itself confirmed everything.
"He asked me to come in," she said carefully. "I didn't go there with an agenda."
"What did he ask you to do?"
She looked at me for a long moment. Something moved behind her eyes that I couldn't read yet. "He asked me to find out how serious you are about pursuing the Shao estate claim."
"And you're telling me this because?"
"Because what he offered me in exchange is something I don't want."
I waited.
"He told me he could guarantee Damien would come back to me if I helped him build a case against your legitimacy claim." She said it plainly, without drama. "He said he had people who could raise questions about the DNA verification process. Procedural gaps. He just needed someone with social access to you to create a timeline inconsistency."
"He wanted you to get close to me and lie."
"Yes."
I looked at her. "Why are you telling me this instead of doing it?"
She picked her cup back up and looked out the window for a moment before answering. "Because I've known Richard Cole for fifteen years and I know what he does with the people who help him. They become useful until they're not, and then they become the story he tells to protect himself." She looked back at me. "And because I've spent three years believing Damien still wanted me. Yesterday he told me he needed time."
There it was.
"He's chasing you," she said. It wasn't a question.
I didn't answer.
She nodded slowly like I had. "I'm not asking you to feel sorry for me. I'm telling you Richard is moving faster than you think and the angle he's planning to use isn't legal. It's personal. He's looking for something in your past that he can use publicly to undermine Victor's announcement before it gains momentum."
"Does he have anything?"
"Not yet." She met my eyes. "But he has people looking."
I sat back. Clara was four tables away with her head down and her ears open.
"Why should I trust anything you've just told me?" I asked.
Vivienne reached into her bag and slid a small drive across the table. "Because I recorded the meeting."
