Chapter 201

"She's dead? Suicide?"

Vivian Lockhart's phone nearly slipped from her fingers as the call came through on their way to the courthouse.

Nathaniel Blackwood turned sharply in the passenger seat. "What happened?"

"The court just informed me Cassandra Delacroix took her own life this morning. Her body's already at the crematorium."

"Impossible."

Nathaniel's voice cut through the tension like steel. "Cassandra was a prime suspect in an ongoing trial. Even with a suicide, legal protocol requires a mandatory investigation period before any disposition of remains. This reeks of foul play."

"Unless someone's covering their tracks," Vivian breathed, nails digging into her palms. "Or swapping the corpse entirely."

"Exactly."

As a seasoned attorney, Nathaniel had seen every trick in the book. Suspects "committing suicide" conveniently before trial? Oldest trick in the mafia playbook.

Vivian's laugh held no humor. "Now I understand why you let Evelyn Whitmore walk free yesterday. This was always your endgame."

"Pathetic, isn't it?" Nathaniel's lip curled. "Rather than fight fair in court, he'd rather play god with the justice system. How far the mighty have fallen."

For the first time, Vivian felt genuine disgust toward the man she'd once loved. Faking a death to protect his mistress? Cassandra Delacroix had reduced him to this? The shame burned hotter than her anger.

"Don't blame yourself, boss." Julian Montgomery adjusted his tie in the rearview mirror. "The Blackwood name carries weight. Judges, cops—they all jump when he snaps his fingers. But if you want to keep pursuing this, victory is still within reach. Your call."

Vivian exhaled sharply. "Drop it."

This had never been about putting Cassandra behind bars. She'd wanted the woman broken, humiliated. Now? Forced to live as a ghost under a new identity? That was punishment enough.

So long as Cassandra stayed in the shadows, Vivian would let sleeping dogs lie.

Mothers understood sacrifices. However vile the parent, the child deserved peace.

Julian whistled. "Mother Teresa reborn. With a boss this merciful, retirement's looking sweet."

The bootlicking almost made her smile. Funny how the attorney who'd once despised her now worshipped the ground she walked on.

"Dream on." Vivian flicked his ear. "You haven't earned a coffee break, let alone retirement. I'm no Blackwood Group charity—I'm Vivian Lockhart. And I'll wring every drop of talent from your overpriced suit."

Julian's chuckle was rueful. "Noticed that, did you? You're worse than Nathaniel. At least he paid us to jump. You? We'd dive off cliffs unpaid. That's power."

She pretended to gag. His flattery needed work.

"Enough. That matter we discussed—can your team handle it?"

Julian sobered instantly. "Taking on a multinational like that? It's David versus Goliath."

"Which is why I demanded Blackwood Legal in the divorce." Her smile turned razor-sharp. "Or more accurately, its three star attorneys."

"Two of us are game. But Victoria Chen?" Julian hesitated. "I crush criminal cases, Gregory dominates administrative law. Commercial litigation? Victoria's the queen. And you haven't even met her."

Vivian shrugged. "Female solidarity."

"Don't count on it." Julian lowered his voice. "Rumor is, she and Nathaniel are... close. She's settled countless disputes for Blackwood Group. Now that the firm's yours? She might defect to them. Then where would that leave you?"

"Nowhere."

The certainty in her voice made Julian blink.

"Actually..." He checked his phone. "Victoria texted me last night. She's flying in from Stanford today. Want to charm her over lunch?"

Vivian's eyes gleamed. "Perfect."