130 Chapter 130: Vivian’s Downfall BeginsÂ
Aria’s POV – One Week After SentencingÂ
Revenge, I’d learned, was most effective when served systematically.Â
“The paper trail is extensive,” Margaret said, spreading documents across my office conference table. “Vivian and Sophia were in contact for months before the hotel incident. Dozens of calls, text messages, meetings at coffee shops. All documented.”Â
“Conspiracy,” I said, studying the phone records.Â
“Absolutely. The DA is building a case, but Vivian’s disappeared. No credit card activity, no phone pings, nothing.” Margaret leaned back. “It’s like she went underground.”Â
“Good.” I smiled coldly. “Let her hide. It’ll make what comes next more satisfying.”Â
“What are you planning?” Margaret’s expression was wary.Â
“Nothing illegal.” I stacked the documents neatly. “Just strategic business moves that happen to impact my sister’s life.”Â
“Aria”Â
“She tried to destroy my family, Margaret.” My voice was cold. “She conspired with Sophia to drug Damien, stage those photos, tear us apart. And before that? She seduced my husband, helped my parents throw me out pregnant, and celebrated my suffering. So no—I’m not letting this go.”Â
Margaret sighed. “What do you need from me?”Â
“Find out where she’s living. Where she’s working, if she’s working. Who her contacts are, what assets she has. Everything.”Â
“Legal surveillance only,” Margaret warned.Â
“Of course,” I smiled. “I’m not breaking any laws. Just making informed business decisions.”Â
It took three days for the report to come back. Vivian was living in a luxury apartmentÂ
in the Diamond District–paid for by her wealthy fiancé, Bradford Whitmore III, heir to a shipping fortune.Â
“Interesting,” I murmured, reading through the details. “She landed on her feet.”Â
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“For now,” Olivia said from my office couch. She’d stopped by with coffee and had gotten sucked into my planning session. “What are you thinking?”Â
“I’m thinking that Bradford Whitmore is very old money, very traditional, very concerned with reputation.” I pulled up my laptop. “And I’m thinking that the Diamond Towers apartment building where Vivian lives is currently for sale.”Â
Olivia’s eyes widened. “You’re not”Â
“I’m buying it.” I started typing. “Monroe Global has been looking to expand into real estate. This is a perfect opportunity.”Â
“Aria, that’s”Â
“Strategic business.” I looked up. “The building is undervalued, in a prime location, and has excellent potential for modernization. It’s a sound investment.”Â
“And it happens to be where your sister lives.”Â
“Happy coincidence.” My smile was sharp.Â
The purchase went through in two weeks. Monroe Global now owned the Diamond Towers, along with all its leases and tenants.Â
Including Vivian’s apartment.Â
“Ms. Monroe,” my new property manager, Roberts, said during our first meeting. “I’ve reviewed all the leases. Most are standard, but apartment 2847” He pulled up a file. “The tenant is months behind on rent.‘Â
“months?” I raised an eyebrow. “Why wasn’t she evicted?”Â
“The previous owners were… lenient. Apparently, she had personal connections.”Â
“We don’t do lenient.” I signed the eviction notice he’d prepared. “Standard thirty–day notice. If rent isn’t paid in full plus late fees, she’s out.”Â
“Understood, Ms. Monroe.”Â
Two days later, I got a call from Margaret.“Vivian’s lawyer contacted me,” she said. “Your sister wants to negotiate the eviction.”Â
“There’s nothing to negotiate.” I didn’t look up from my work. “She’s behind on rent. She pays in full or she’s evicted. Those are the terms.”Â
“She’s claiming financial hardship”Â
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“Then she should have paid her rent.” My voice was cold. “Eviction stands.”Â
The second part of my plan required more finesse.Bradford Whitmore III was a conservative man–sixties, recently widowed, looking for a young wife to grace his arm at charity events. Vivian fit the role perfectly: beautiful, charming, and apparently from a good family.Â
What Bradford didn’t know was that Vivian had been lying about everything.Â
“Mr. Whitmore’s private investigator is quite thorough,” Richards, my head of security, said during our weekly briefing. “He’s been vetting Ms. Vivian for months before proposing.”Â
“And?” I leaned forward.Â
“And his report is based on false information. Vivian claimed she was the primary heir to Monroe family wealth, that she left the family business due to ‘creative differences, and that she’s never been in legal trouble.”Â
“All lies,” I said.Â
“All lies,” Richards confirmed. “Would you like me to provide the investigator with accurate information?”Â
“Please do.” I smiled. “I’m sure Mr. Whitmore would appreciate knowing the truthÂ
about his fiancée.”Â
The truth was devastating: Vivian had embezzled $200,000 from Monroe family businesses before they collapsed. She’d been having an affair with a married board member–creating a scandal that cost him his position. She’d been involved in the conspiracy to drug and defame Damien Blackwood, only avoiding charges because she’d fled before being subpoenaed.Â
And most damning? She’d seduced and made out with her own sister’s husband, destroying a marriage and leaving her pregnant sister homeless.Â
Bradford Whitmore’s investigator received a comprehensive dossier. Three days later, Vivian’s engagement was very publicly called off.Â
“You’re ruthless,” Damien said that evening, reading the headlines on his tablet. “ShippingÂ
Heir Calls Off Engagement After Discovering Fiancée’s Lies‘ Aria, this is”Â
“Justice,” I finished. “She destroyed my life. Now she gets to know how it feels.”Â
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“But she’s your sister.”Â
“She was my sister.” I took the tablet from him. “Sisters don’t do what she did. SheÂ
made her choices. Now she lives with the consequences.”Â
“Mama?” Noah’s voice came from the hallway. “You have a sister?”Â
I froze. We’d been careful not to discuss this in front of Noah–he’d never even knownÂ
Vivian existed.Â
“Just boring grown–up stuff, baby,” I said quickly. “Come here–it’s bedtime.”Â
“But you said sister!” Noah climbed onto the couch between us, his eyes wide with excitement. “I have another aunty? Like Aunty Olivia?”Â
Damien and I exchanged glances. This was not how I’d planned to have thisÂ
conversation.Â
“Noah-” I started.Â
“Why doesn’t she come visit?” Noah bounced on the cushions. “Does she live far away? Can she come to my next birthday party?”Â
The innocence in his voice made my chest ache.Â
“Noah, sweetheart.” I pulled him into my lap. “Yes, I have a sister. Her name is Vivian. But… she’s not like Aunty Olivia. She did some things that weren’t very nice. To me and to Daddy. So she’s not part of our family anymore.”Â
“But she’s your sister.” Noah’s excitement faded to confusion. “Mr. Peterson says familyÂ
is forever.”Â
“Mr. Peterson is usually right,” Damien said gently. “But sometimes, family members make choices that hurt us. And when that happens, we have to protect ourselves—and the people we love.”Â
“Did she hurt you?” Noah looked at me with those devastating blue eyes.Â
“Yes, baby. She did.”Â
“Then I don’t like her anymore.” Noah hugged me fiercely. “Nobody gets to hurt myÂ
mama.”Â
My throat tightened. “Thank you, sweetheart.”Â
“But Daddy,” Noah turned to Damien. “What if she says sorry? Mama says we have toÂ
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forgive people when they say sorry.”Â
Out of the mouths of babes. “That’s” Damien looked helpless. “That’s complicated, buddy.”Â
“Why?”Â
“Because sometimes sorry isn’t enough.” I brushed hair from Noah’s forehead. “Sometimes people hurt us so badly that we need space from them to heal.”Â
“Forever space?” Noah asked.Â
“Maybe. I don’t know yet.” I kissed his head. “But right now, yes. We need space fromÂ
Aunt Vivian.”Â
After putting Noah to bed, I found Damien on the balcony, staring at the city. “That was hard,” he said when I joined him.Â
“Noah asking about Vivian?” I leaned against the railing. “Yeah.”Â
“He’s not wrong, you know.” Damien glanced at me. “About forgiveness. About family.”Â
“Are you defending her?” My voice was sharp.Â
“No.” He caught my hand. “God, no. Vivian deserves everything you’re doing to her and more. But Aria” He paused. “I’m the last person who should give moral advice. I hurt you worse than almost anyone. And you forgave me, gave me a second chance. Why?”Â
“That’s different.”Â
“Is it?” His eyes searched mine. “I was cruel. I threw you out pregnant. I believed lies about you without question. I was possibly worse than Vivian in some ways. So why did I get forgiveness when she doesn’t?”Â
I was quiet for a long moment. “Because you were willing to do the work. You changed, you proved yourself day after day. Vivian” I stopped, “Vivian hasn’t even apologized whole heartedly. She’s hiding, probably planning her next attack. How do I forgive someone who isn’t sorry with all her heart?”Â
“You probably can’t,” Damien admitted. “And I’m not saying you should. I’m just” He sighed. “Noah’s question got me thinking. About redemption, second chances. About where the line is between justice and revenge.”Â
“You think I’ve crossed that line?” My voice was dangerous.Â
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“I think you’re dancing on it,” he said honestly. “And I get it. I do. But Aria, I’ve watched you over these past weeks. You’re becoming someone harder. Colder. Someone who calculates destruction instead of building success.”Â
“She tried to destroy us”Â
“And she failed.” He turned me to face him. “She failed, Aria. We’re still here. Still together. Still building our family. Isn’t that victory enough?”Â
“No,” I said flatly. “Not until she faces consequences for what she did.”Â
“She will face consequences. The DA is building a conspiracy case. When they find her, she’ll be arrested.” His hands cupped my face. “But this vendetta–buying her building just to evict her, destroying her engagement–that’s not consequences. That’s revenge.”Â
“What’s wrong with revenge?” My voice cracked. “She deserves it.”Â
“Maybe.” His thumb brushed my cheek. “But does it make you happy? Does destroying her life piece by piece fill the hole she created? Or does it just dig the hole deeper?”Â
I pulled away, furious. “So what, I’m just supposed to let it go? Pretend she didn’t try to ruin my life? Again?”Â
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