Chapter 3 - The Ghost of Vivien Cole
He Searched His Fiancée’s Past—and Found a Trail of Dead Billionaires.By midnight, Nathaniel was back at his desk in the estate’s third-floor study. The house was dead quiet. The only sound was the tapping of his fingers against his glass of bourbon.
An encrypted file appeared on his laptop. Marcus had delivered.
Nathaniel opened it, expecting to find a few million dollars missing from the charity foundation. Instead, what he found was an abyss. Vivien hadn’t just been stealing; she had been systematically bleeding the foundation dry through a network of shell corporations registered in the Cayman Islands and Cyprus. Over forty million dollars had vanished.
But that wasn't the most disturbing part of the file.
At the bottom of the report, Marcus had attached a supplementary document titled: BACKGROUND VERIFICATION: COLE, VIVIEN.
Nathaniel clicked it open. A photograph scanned from an old newspaper from ten years ago popped up on his screen. The woman in the photo had dark brown hair and a slightly different nose, but the eyes were unmistakable. Those piercing, cold blue eyes.
The headline read: “TRAGIC ACCIDENT: RECLUSION MILLIONAIRE ARTHUR VANE DIES AFTER FALL FROM BALCONY.”
Nathaniel’s blood turned to liquid nitrogen.
According to the article, Arthur Vane, an eccentric sixty-year-old real estate mogul, had fallen to his death from his penthouse balcony in Chicago. His twenty-year-old live-in assistant, a woman named Victoria Vance, had been the sole witness. She had claimed he tripped over a loose outdoor rug. She had cried beautifully for the cameras. She had inherited a modest five-million-dollar clause in his will because the family didn't want a public trial.
Right after the money cleared, Victoria Vance disappeared.
Three years later, Vivien Cole emerged in New York high society with a rewritten history, a plastic-surgery-refined face, and a flawless pedigree fabricated from thin air.
She was a black widow. And Nathaniel had invited her into his home, into his bed, and into his family’s empire.
Suddenly, a soft knock on his study door broke the silence.
Nathaniel closed the laptop lid halfway, his heart hammering against his ribs. “Come in.”
The door opened, but it wasn't Vivien. It was Rosa.
The young housekeeper looked pale, her eyes rimmed with red. She stepped into the study and closed the door firmly behind her, locking it. Nathaniel frowned, standing up from his desk.
“Rosa? What’s wrong? Is Lily okay?”
Rosa walked toward his desk, her hands shaking so badly she had to clasp them together. “Mr. Nathaniel… I am risking everything by coming here. If Miss Cole finds out, she will destroy me. She will throw my family out on the street. But I cannot live with this lie. I cannot let her hurt your mother anymore.”
Nathaniel’s eyes sharpened. He stepped around the desk. “Rosa, what are you talking about?”
“My daughter, Lily,” Rosa whispered, a tear escaping her eye. “She was playing in the hallway this morning. Near the grand staircase. She saw everything, Mr. Nathaniel. She saw Miss Cole push your mother.”
The confirmation hit him like a physical blow. He had the lace, he had the financial motive, he had the dark past—and now, he had an eyewitness.
“Are you certain, Rosa?” Nathaniel asked, grabbing her by the shoulders, his voice thick with emotion. “Lily is sure about what she saw?”
“She told me Miss Cole pushed her. And then… Miss Cole came down to the laundry room. She threatened my baby. She told her that if she told silly stories, you would throw us out. She’s terrified, Mr. Nathaniel. We are both terrified.”
Nathaniel closed his eyes for a brief moment, inhaling deeply. When he opened them, the last shred of the man who loved Vivien Cole was dead. Only the ruthless CEO remained.
“You and Lily are safe, Rosa. I promise you,” Nathaniel said, his voice ringing with absolute authority. “I will move you and your daughter to a luxury hotel in the city tonight under private guard. You will want for nothing. But I need you to do one thing for me before you leave.”
“Anything, sir.”
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“Keep acting normal for the next twelve hours. Vivien cannot know that we are onto her. If she thinks she’s cornered, she will strike like a wounded animal. I am going to build a trap so tight she will never see the light of day again.”
What neither of them realized was that outside the heavy oak door of the study, a shadow was retreating down the hallway. Vivien had been standing there, her ear pressed to the wood. She had heard every single word.
