Contracted by the billionaire

chapter 8

Vivenne's Pov

I woke early in Roman’s penthouse. My bruises still hurt, but I felt stronger. I dressed in the clothes Delia brought and went to the kitchen. Roman stood by the counter with coffee, already in a suit.

“Morning,” I said. “Any updates?”

He handed me a mug. “Griffin made bail. But Iris has him on record for the hit. Police are slow, but we have copies. Victor Crane is next. My team found transfers from Ashworth accounts to his shell companies.”

I sipped the coffee. “Good. We exposed him today. He’s the link to bigger crimes.”

Carter walked in, yawning. “You two plotting already? I’m coming along for moral support. Plus, I want to see Crane squirm.”

We left together. Roman drove, with security cars behind us. At Steele Tower, we went straight to the conference room. Victor Crane sat at the table, looking relaxed in his expensive shirt. He smiled when he saw me.

“Vivienne. Roman. What’s this about?”

Roman didn’t sit. “Audit results. You funneled estate money through fake deals. Margaret paid you to keep the identity switch quiet.”

Victor’s smile faded. “That’s a serious accusation. You have proof?”

I placed the folder on the table. “Dates, amounts, your signatures. Iris cross-checked everything. You helped bury my real birth records twenty years ago.”

He leaned back. “Family matters get messy. Margaret did what she thought was best for the name. Clarissa carries the legacy better.”

Roman stepped closer. “You fed her information about our contracts. That ends now. You’re out of every Steele deal. Effective immediately.”

Victor stood, face red. “You’ll regret this. The Ashworths have connections. Judges, banks. This inheritance fight will drag for years.”

I met his eyes. “Not if we show the financial crimes. You’re looking at prison time, not just lost business.”

Carter added, “And we have the shooters linking back to Griffin. Your network is falling apart.”

Victor grabbed his briefcase. “This isn’t over.” He stormed out.

Roman turned to me. “Security will tail him. He’ll run to Margaret.”

I nodded. “Let him. It forces her hand.”

We spent the next hour with Roman’s lawyers. They confirmed the betrothal contract gave me solid ground. The court hearing in nine days now looked strong. I called Iris from the office.

“Victor cracked fast,” I told her. “He’ll warn Mother. Freeze anything left.”

“Already on it,” Iris said. “Nathaniel wants a meeting with you. Your father. He sounded ashamed, not angry.”

I paused. “Set it for tomorrow. Neutral place.”

Roman watched me after the call. “You sure? He looked the other way for years.”

“He’s weak, but he loves me,” I replied. “I need answers from him about the switch. In my first life, I never got them.”

He touched my arm. “I’ll go with you. No risks.”

The possessive tone in his voice sent warmth through me. He wasn’t warm or chatty, but his attention felt complete. We ate lunch at his desk. Simple sandwiches. No fancy talk.

“You’re handling this well,” he said. “Most people would break after what you described.”

“I broke last time,” I admitted. “Died because I went to Clarissa first. This time I came to you indirectly. Through the filing.”

He set his food down. “I read the full contract last night. Our fathers tied it tight. Assets merge on marriage. Margaret tried to swap names to keep control.”

I looked at him. “In the future, you married her instead. Or almost did. It felt wrong even then.”

“Not happening now.” His hand covered mine. “You’re not background anymore. You’re the one I see.”

The slow burn between us grew. I didn’t pull away. His touch felt safe after years of fear. “I notice how you pay attention. It’s new for me.”

Delia called my phone. “Hey, I’m at the penthouse. Brought more stuff. Your sister tried calling me again. I blocked her. Sable left a nasty voicemail too. Called you a liar.”

I sighed. “They’re scrambling. Tell them nothing.”

“Obviously,” Delia said. “Carter invited me to dinner later. He’s funny. Don’t worry, I’ll keep it light.”

We hung up. Roman raised an eyebrow. “Carter moves fast.”

“He likes real people,” I said. “Delia is that.”

The afternoon brought more work. We reviewed documents at the table. Roman pointed out gaps. I filled them from my memories. His team took notes without questions. They trusted his lead.

By evening, we returned to the penthouse. Diana Steele waited in the living room. Roman’s mother. She stood tall, elegant dress, cool eyes on me.

“Roman, a word,” she said.

He stayed by my side. “Say it here. Vivienne stays.”

Diana pursed her lips. “This match was arranged with Clarissa. The Ashworth name, the connections. Changing now looks unstable.”

“Clarissa lied,” Roman answered. “The contract names Vivienne. Evidence shows forgery. I don’t care about appearances.”

I spoke up. “Mrs. Steele, I didn’t ask for this fight. But it’s mine. I won’t shrink to make it easy.”

She studied me. “You’ve changed. Used to be quiet. Now you challenge everything.”

“Getting killed once does that,” I said simply.

Diana blinked but didn’t push. “We’ll see at the hearing. I expect decency.”

She left. Carter appeared from the kitchen. “Mom’s tough. She’ll come around when she sees results.”

Roman pulled me aside later. “Ignore the pressure. I decide. Not her.”

We stood close in the hallway. His hand rested on my waist. The air felt thick. “I believe more of your story now,” he said quietly. “The details match too well. No one could invent all this.”

I touched his chest. “Doesn’t sound crazy anymore?”

“Sounds like survival.” He leaned in, forehead against mine. “I protect what’s mine. The contract. You.”

The kiss came slow. Not rushed. His lips firm, possessive but careful. I kissed back, feeling the three years of loneliness fade a bit. When we pulled apart, his eyes stayed intense.

“No wavering,” he said.

Delia and Carter joined us for dinner. Simple pasta. We laughed at Delia’s stories about rich nonsense. It felt normal. For a moment, the revenge took second place.

But my phone buzzed. Unknown number. I answered.

“Vivienne.” Margaret’s voice, cold and elegant. “Stop this. You’ll destroy the family. Come home. We can fix the papers quietly.”

I put it on speaker. “No. You tried to kill me. Twice now.”

She laughed softly. “Delusional talk. The court will see unstable. Clarissa is worried.”

Roman took the phone. “Call again, and we will add harassment charges. Stay away.”

He hung up. “She’s desperate.”

I nodded. “Good. Tomorrow with my father. Then we push harder on Crane.”

Later in bed, I replayed the day. Roman checked on me before his own room. “Sleep. I’m next door.”