Chapter 8: What Vivienne Did Next
Three days passed.
The board had voted — ten to two — to formally recognize Charlotte's ownership and suspend all Holt family access to Solmere properties and accounts.
The legal review of the right-of-first-refusal agreement had been authorized.
Gerald had filed the first motion with the court by Thursday afternoon.
Charlotte had moved into the Solmere Group's executive offices on the twelfth floor.
She had not redecorated.
She had not announced herself publicly.
She had simply sat down at the desk that had been her mother's and begun working through fifteen years of decisions she had not been present for.
On Friday morning, Gerald knocked on the open door.
"Vivienne's lawyer made contact," he said.
"And?"
"They're not challenging the board vote.
They're not contesting your ownership directly." He came in and sat down.
"They're going after the third partner.
The one who agreed to give the sworn statement."
Charlotte set down her pen.
"How?"
"They've filed a civil claim against him.
Breach of confidentiality.
They're arguing that anything he says about the dissolved firm's internal matters is protected." Gerald paused.
"It's not a strong argument.
But it's designed to tie him up long enough to slow our case."
"Can they win it?"
"Unlikely.
But it could take six months to dismiss."
Charlotte thought for a moment.
"What does he need?"
"Legal representation.
The claim was filed yesterday.
He called our office this morning.
He sounded frightened."
"Get him representation," Charlotte said.
"Today.
Solmere covers the cost."
"That's generous."
"It's not generous.
He's our witness.
We protect our witnesses." She picked up her pen again.
"What else?"
Gerald hesitated.
"What else, Gerald?"
"There's a story running in a financial news outlet this afternoon.
Anonymous source.
It claims that the new leadership of the Solmere Group is under investigation for irregularities in the ownership transfer."
Charlotte looked up.
"That's not true."
"No.
It isn't.
But it's been published."
She was quiet for a moment.
"Vivienne," she said.
"Almost certainly.
We can't prove it.
But the timing—"
"She's trying to destabilize the board before the legal review gets traction." Charlotte stood up and moved to the window.
Fourteen floors below, the city moved the way it always did — indifferent, continuous, unaware.
"She needs the board members who voted for me to start doubting.
She needs uncertainty."
"Yes."
"Then we remove the uncertainty." She turned back.
"Draft a statement.
Clear, factual, no legal language.
I'll sign it.
We send it directly to every board member before five o'clock.
We get ahead of the story before they read it themselves."
"And the journalist?"
"Find out who placed the story.
Don't confront them yet.
Just find out."
Gerald nodded and stood.
"One more thing," he said.
He reached into the folder he was carrying and removed a photograph.
Not the one from the lobby.
A different one.
Older.
"We found this in the archive.
In a box that was sealed and labeled with your mother's handwriting."
He set it on the desk.
Charlotte looked at it.
It was a photograph of her mother and a young girl — maybe seven or eight years old.
They were standing outside a building Charlotte didn't recognize.
Her mother was smiling.
The girl was holding her hand and looking up at her with an expression of complete trust.
"Who is the girl?" Charlotte asked.
Gerald was quiet.
"Gerald."
"We don't know yet," he said.
"But the building in the background — we identified it this morning.
It's a private care facility in Vermont.
Specialized in long-term residential support." He paused.
"It closed nine years ago."
Charlotte looked at the photograph for a long time.
"Find out who she is," she said.
"We're already looking."
He left.
Charlotte sat back down at the desk.
She set the photograph beside her laptop where she could see it.
May you like
Outside, the city moved on without her.
Inside, something her mother had never told her was waiting to be found.
