Chapter 4 - Unraveling the Web
The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating. The rain continued to batter the glass outside, a chaotic percussion to the quiet standoff between Vivienne and me.
Vivienne crossed her arms defensively, lifting her chin with a defiant, haughty glare.
"Well?" she spat out, breaking the quiet. "Are you going to apologize for making a complete fool of yourself in front of our entire social circle over a dead maid's trinket?"
"Take it off," I said.
"Excuse me?"
"Take the ring off your finger and place it on this table right now."
Vivienne hesitated, her fingers twitching. Then, realizing she had no immediate escape, she slid the platinum band off her finger and dropped it onto the white tablecloth. It rolled a few inches before coming to a stop against a silver fork.
I walked around the table, picked up the ring, and held it up to the light. The hand-carved star gleamed faintly against the polished metal.
"Sofia died three weeks ago," I said quietly, turning to face her. "In her guest cottage. The paramedics said it was a massive stroke. Natural causes. Rapid and clean."
Vivienne swallowed hard, her throat bobbing. "What does her death have to do with me? People die every day, Damian. It’s tragic, sure, but servants come and go."
"Sofia didn't just come and go," I replied, stepping closer to her. "She managed this entire estate for five years. She knew where every document was filed, every security code was stored, and every safe combination was kept. More importantly... Sofia liked to keep a meticulous personal journal."
Vivienne’s eyes flickered with a sudden, sharp panic. "A journal? Everyone keeps journals. That doesn't prove anything."
"It proves a great deal when the last three entries detail your visits to her cottage late at night," I said, pulling my phone from my breast pocket and unlocking the encrypted digital backup of Sofia's safe contents that my private investigator had retrieved from her locker an hour before dinner.
I didn't show her the screen. I just recited the words from memory.
"October 14th," I read softly. "Miss Vivienne came to my quarters again. She offered me ten thousand dollars if I would misplace the corporate merger files for the Sterling account. I told her no. I told her I would inform Mr. Vance by morning."
Vivienne stepped back, hitting the edge of the mahogany sideboard.
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"October 19th," I continued, watching her face pale further with every syllable. "Miss Vivienne returned. She was angry. She brought me a glass of water from the main kitchen. After I drank it, my throat burned. She searched my desk while I was dizzy. She took my mother's ring from the wooden box because she said if I didn't cooperate, she would take something I loved even more."
The air left Vivienne’s lungs in a sharp, ragged gasp.
