The next morning, I made a decision.
I didn’t announce it. I didn’t dramatic-pause in front of the mirror or give myself a pep talk like something out of a bad movie. I simply woke up before Alexander, dressed quietly, and sat at the kitchen island with my laptop and a mug of coffee that went cold as I worked.
If Vivienne Laurent wanted chaos, then I needed clarity.
I started with the obvious. The interview. The blog. The carefully curated quotes that said nothing and implied everything. Vivienne hadn’t changed — she still weaponized subtlety like a blade. But subtlety left fingerprints if you knew where to look.
By the time Alexander emerged from the bedroom, tie half-done, I had three tabs open and a legal pad filled with notes.
He stopped short when he saw me. “You’re up early.”
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