Chapter 101

Vivian blinked away the remnants of sleep as she stumbled toward the door.

The frantic knocking shattered her drowsiness instantly, sending adrenaline coursing through her veins.

A court messenger stood rigidly in her doorway, clutching official documents—Richard had filed a lawsuit against her for withholding the inheritance from her late mother.

The legal terms were unambiguous. Without a formal will, Catherine's estate would be equally divided between surviving spouse and child.

Catherine, who'd never worked after marriage, left only one asset—a crumbling apartment frozen in time.

Though uninhabitable for years, the apartment remained Vivian's sanctuary, where she occasionally retreated to feel her mother's presence.

Now Richard was accusing her of hoarding the property, demanding compensation for lost inheritance and damages for its vacancy.

His ultimatum was clear—pay up or he'd force a sale. The derelict building's prime downtown location made it a developer's dream.

The amount he demanded was outrageous—nine hundred thousand sterlings.

Vivian's fingers turned bone-white around the papers as realization dawned—this was Richard's most brazen scheme yet.

She knew the apartment was merely a pretext. Something darker lurked beneath this legal maneuver.

Her phone vibrated with an unknown caller ID.

After three rings, she answered.

Richard's voice slithered through the receiver. "Received the court papers?"

Vivian didn't bother with pleasantries. "What game are you playing now?"

"You—" Richard's retort was cut off as Daphne's saccharine voice intervened. "Vivian darling, must we be so hostile? We're still family." Her tone dripped false concern. "I know that apartment is your mother's last gift to you. We'd never take it from you."

A calculated pause. "But we have... an alternative arrangement. Agree to our terms, and Richard will sign over his inheritance rights."

Vivian's jaw tightened. Daphne always played the benevolent stepmother while wielding poison-tipped words.

"What exactly do you want?" Vivian demanded.

Hearing no immediate refusal, Daphne pounced. "Remember Maxwell Sterling? Your former fiancé? He still carries a torch for you—marital status be damned." Her voice turned conspiratorial. "With your divorce from Adrian pending... perhaps reconsidering Maxwell wouldn't be so terrible?"

The chess pieces clicked into place. After all these years, they still sought to barter her like livestock.