Vivenne's Pov
I met my father at a small restaurant in midtown the next afternoon. Roman sat beside me at the table. Nathaniel arrived alone, looking older than I remembered. His shoulders slumped as he sat down. No Margaret. No Clarissa. Just him.
“Vivienne,” he said quietly. “I’m glad you agreed to see me.”
I kept my voice even. “I need the truth. About the switch. Why did you let it happen.”
He rubbed his hands together. “Your mother convinced me it was best for the family. Clarissa was stronger, she said. More suited to the Steele match and the public life. You were quieter. I looked away because it was easier. I regret that every day now.”
Roman stayed silent but his hand rested on my knee under the table. Solid. Supportive.
“You knew about the forgeries?” I asked.
Nathaniel n
