Chapter 462

The phone buzzed insistently on the marble countertop. Beatrice arched an elegant brow. "That sounds important, dear. You should get it."

Vivian hesitated for only a heartbeat before swiping to answer. "Julian." Her voice remained perfectly composed.

There was nothing improper about her relationship with Julian Montclair, and avoiding his call in front of Adrian's grandparents would only raise unnecessary questions.

Julian's rich baritone flowed through the speaker. "Have you had dinner yet?"

Vivian glanced at the lavish spread before them. "We're just sitting down. Leonard and Beatrice are here with me."

A pause. Then Julian's tone shifted to apologetic. "I'm interrupting family time."

The dining room was so quiet they could hear every word. Vivian turned to the elderly couple. "Please don't wait for me. Go ahead and start."

She moved to serve them, but Beatrice waved her off with a knowing smile. "We're perfectly capable, darling. Take your call."

Vivian focused back on the phone. "Julian, what's wrong? Is there something you need?"

Another beat of silence. Then Julian's voice dropped to that careful register she recognized. "The recipient of Serena's transfer—Vincent Lockwood—he's your housekeeper Gwendolyn's son."

Vivian's breath caught.

Vincent.

The name slammed into her consciousness like a thunderbolt.

She remembered him from the "car incident" investigation.

Now she understood why it had tickled her memory then.

A cascade of realizations flooded her—Gwendolyn's inexplicable coldness, her prying questions about Vivian's schedule, all those odd moments Vivian had dismissed. The puzzle pieces clicked into place with terrifying clarity. Gwendolyn wasn't just difficult—she was Serena's mole.

"Vivian?" Julian's voice pulled her back. "Are you still there?"

She forced her lips into a smile no one could see. "I'm fine. Thank you for telling me this."

"Do you need backup?" Julian's offer came softly. "Anything at all?"

"This is... a family matter." Vivian kept her tone light even as her fingers traced nervous patterns on the tablecloth. "I'll handle it."

"I understand." Julian's voice carried that subtle note of disappointment she'd come to recognize. "Just remember—my line's always open for you."

The call ended, leaving Vivian staring at her reflection in the polished silverware.

Her mind whirled with implications.

Gwendolyn had been in her home for years.

Had access to everything.

Knew all her habits.

And now...

Now she knew exactly who'd been betraying her all along.