Three days later.
The silence of the last seventy-two hours had a weight to it that no one in Greenwood seemed to notice. Vivian woke up to the same high-thread-count sheets, the same sterile sunlight hitting the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the same deafening lack of a notification on her phone.
Her routine was her only anchor. She dressed, went downstairs, and found Travis Smart waiting by the idling Town Car. They made their usual stop at Beanstock cafe—a place where the baristas knew her order but didn't know her name. But as she sat there, the air in the city felt like it was thickening, pressing against her lungs. She needed out.
"Travis," she said, tapping her phone. "I'm suffocating," she complained.
Travis pressed the down button, allowing all the windows to lower, though he knew air wasn't the problem.
"We should leave to... anywhere," she hummed, texting the family office. I need a different sky, she thought to herself.
Instead, her phone buzzed with a notification that made her already souring mood far worse.
KANE FAMILY OFFICE: You are not currently an authorized user of the Family Office. Request cannot be granted.
Vivian stared at the screen, a dry laugh bubbling in her throat. A glitch. It had to be. She dialed the office directly.
"This is an automated message." The electronic voice on the other end was professional, cold, and entirely useless. "ID number 1532 has a temporary hold placed on authorization of the amenities provided through the Kane office. If you believe this has been done in error, please contact the administrator—This is an automated message—"
Before the recording could repeat, she ended the call. Vivian's grip tightened on the device. The message was a warning shot from her parents, and she knew it was only the first one.
While Vivian was lost in her thoughts, Travis received a new message from the Kane family.
FAMILY OFFICE: All credit cards are locked.
"Travis," she said, her voice tight. "Book me a flight anywhere. Now."
Travis looked at her through the rearview mirror, his expression pained. "I would love to be of service, Miss Kane. But I don't have your travel documents. And the credit card provided by your father for in-city expenses? It was suspended."
"How am I supposed to travel then?" Vivian asked, a sudden, sharp realization hitting her.
"You would need your passport, ma'am. And a ticket," Travis said softly, his tone full of a sympathy he couldn't express in words. She was no better than a lost child.
"I don't even know where my passport is," Vivian muttered. The realization that she didn't even possess her own documents sparked her anger.
The return to her building was a silent funeral procession. Vivian exited the car, Travis trailing behind with her bag, the familiar weight of his presence the only thing that felt normal.
When they reached the elevators, Travis pressed his key card against the sensor. Nothing. No chime, no green light. Just the mocking red blink of a dead circuit. He tried again, then walked toward the security desk. When he returned, he couldn't even look her in the eye.
"Ma'am... your card has been deactivated. You've been removed as a resident of the building."
Vivian felt a flare of white-hot indignity. She turned toward the glass doors, and as she did, a courier walked in carrying a massive, breathtaking bouquet of long-stemmed white and pink orchids. The scent was delicate, alluring. She smiled at them for a fleeting second before the reality of the sidewalk hit her.
She stormed into the car, her fingers flying across her screen.
Vivian: I can't get into my place in Greenwood??
Charlotte: I'm aware!
Vivian: Why are you punishing me? You told me to ask for what I wanted!
Charlotte:What gave you the impression I did anything? I quite enjoyed the metaphorical beating of the Westbrooks and Conrad.
Vivian groaned. She would need to turn to her father. The groveling would feel like swallowing glass.
Vivian: I'm sorry!
Conrad:Your behavior was appalling.
She couldn't help but to roll her eyes.
Vivian: I won't do it again.
Conrad: Apology accepted.
Vivian: Does this mean my access is restored? My home? My money?
Conrad: Not quite. Go to your fiancé. It's been three days.
Vivian: I will apologize and talk to him. Restore my access, Conrad. I have no money. Nowhere to stay!
Conrad:You will live with your fiancé from now on. You will no longer have access to the family office. You have your own family now, Vivian. Go home.
With a scream of pure rage, Vivian hurled her phone onto the floor of the car. "Bring me to The Kane Estate now," she demanded, her voice shaking. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this angry. Her fingers trembled as she put her earbuds in, which instantly connected to her discarded phone, playing the last song she had been listening to as she tried to calm her racing heart.
The drive took upwards of three hours, winding away from the glass of the city and toward the stone of history. The Zenith Estates were different—regal, ancient, modeled after the fortresses of old. When the Town Car pulled up to the sprawling estate with the letter K carved into the driveway, Vivian didn't wait for Travis. She pushed the door open herself.
The front door was opened by the property manager.
"Welcome back, Miss Vivian," Grace said humbly. She reached out, giving Vivian a light pat on the shoulder. "You seem a bit down."
"What could an heiress be sad about?" Vivian laughed, allowing the day's anger to wash away. The long trip had sufficiently soothed her raging emotions.
"Your grandparents are occupied, but they will be back within the hour," Grace said, leading her inside. "The house has been so quiet. You'll bring the young energy we all desire. Though you do look in need of a bit of rest. Henry, make Miss Vivian some tea," she asked him gently, rubbing Vivian's back.
Upstairs, in the bedroom that had been her sanctuary since she was a child, Vivian lay down on the bed. Grace sat in the rocking chair beside her, just like old times when Vivian was a little kid.
"Tell me everything," Grace said kindly.
Vivian spilled it all—the contract, her father's control, the feeling of being a doll to be pushed around. Grace's eyes welled with tears.
"When someone's entire life can be summed up by their achievements and business deals," Grace whispered, "relationships will suffer. I am very sorry, Vivian. I wish there was something I could do."
"You're helping," Vivian promised. She looked at the tea Henry brought, then at Grace. "You drink it."
Closing her eyes, she drifted to sleep as Grace comfortably rubbed her back.
Across the city, Gunner Westbrook stood in a soundproof glass conference room, surrounded by employees making plans for materials and cost analysis. Standing at the door outside was Fletcher. Gunner noticed him and told the team, "Keep working," before leaving to speak to him in hushed tones.
"You should be with her. What's happened!?!"
"There's been a bit of a development, sir," Fletcher said. "The flowers you sent. She never saw them—well, she saw them, she just never received them."
Gunner's voice was like ice. "Why?"
"Her father cut her off. From what I can tell, she has no money and no access to the building to see the flowers you sent. He put a hold on her accounts and removed her from the family office. Her father isn't even paying for the car's gas."
"Why? That doesn't make sense."
"From our intelligence, it seems to be a personal family issue. Even the expense account for her driver is on hold."
"Where is she? We'll just go get her. This is ridiculous," Gunner groaned as he fished his keys from his pocket and began to walk toward the exit.
"Sir! She's not in town," Fletcher admitted. "She went to the Zenith Estates."
"Fuck!" Gunner couldn't deal with this right now. He was in the middle of a large project, and he couldn't justify an eight-hour round trip. He was racking his brain for solutions.
"May I make a suggestion, sir?" Fletcher asked. "Leave her there. Let her visit her grandparents. Figure out her family stuff. You have an engagement party Friday. It's only Monday. Wait till Wednesday."
Gunner looked back into the conference room. His team was chipping away at a giant project that would have great economic relevance for his family's company and his own future prospects if he was to become the next CEO. He couldn't just simply leave.
"Fine," Gunner said in resignation. "Wednesday. But keep the other security team on her. I want to be alerted of her every movement."