Vivian
The crystal tumbler made a satisfying c***k against my apartment wall. Imported vodka dripped down hand-painted wallpaper that cost more than most people's monthly salary.
"Nothing?" My voice could freeze hell itself. "Two weeks of investigation, and you found nothing to use against her?"
Andrew - my lawyer since the Dominic debacle five years ago - shifted in his leather chair. Even the apartment's perfect lighting couldn't hide his discomfort.
"Actually..." He opened a thick folder, arranging papers with irritating precision. "We found something rather interesting about Miss Bennett's background."
"Well?" I paced the marble floors, Louboutins clicking like angry punctuation. "Stop being dramatic and tell me."
"She's the granddaughter of Charles Bennett." He watched my reacti
