Vivienne's POV
Eight months.
I carried that number for four days.
I had a company to run. I had three friends and a mother who called every Tuesday evening without fail. Life kept moving the way it always did.
But underneath all of it the number sat there.
Eight months.
....
The journalist's card ended up on my desk at home.
I looked at it every day without picking it up. I knew what she had said. A Zillionaire operating incognito in the city for eight months. And I knew what Ella's research had found. Charles d**k's traceable existence started seven months and twelve days ago. One rental record through an intermediary. Nothing before it.
Maya had found that the company with no public owner had become active in the same financial quarter the journalist was pointing to.
The number
