Chapter 10: The Last Play
Fabio let it ring.
It rang again an hour later.
Then a third time, just after midnight, while we were sitting at the kitchen table with Grace and the ledger and three cups of coffee that had gone cold.
On the fourth call, Fabio answered.
"I know you spoke to Ren," Vivienne said.
No greeting.
No performance.
"Yes."
"Then you know he's going to try to make a deal."
"He hasn't called back yet."
"He will.
He'll offer to return the money.
Or part of it.
He'll say it was a misunderstanding.
A loan your father agreed to." Her voice was flat.
Practical.
"Don't take it."
Fabio looked at me across the table.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked.
"Because if Ren makes a deal with you privately, he'll find a way to include terms that protect him and leave me exposed.
He's done it before." A pause.
"He's not your ally, Fabio.
He never was.
He was mine.
And he's about to decide that cutting me loose is cheaper than going down with me."
"So you're cutting him loose first."
Silence.
"I'm telling you the truth," she said.
"You're protecting yourself," he said.
"Same thing you've always done."
"Yes," she said.
And for once she didn't argue with it.
Fabio was quiet for a moment.
"Vivienne.
The money in that account.
All of it.
Where did it come from?
And don't tell me it was household funds."
Another silence.
Longer than the others.
"Some of it was," she said finally.
"Some of it was from your father's business.
Ren handled the business accounts.
He moved money in ways that were — creative."
"He embezzled from Dad's company."
"That's a strong word."
"It's the accurate word."
She didn't respond to that.
"How much of the money in that account is yours?" Fabio asked.
"Genuinely yours.
Money you earned or were entitled to."
"Not much," she said.
Very quietly.
Grace wrote something on her notepad and turned it to face Fabio.
He read it and nodded.
"I'm going to ask you something," Fabio said.
"And I want you to understand that your answer will affect what happens next."
"Ask."
"The wedding.
The white dress.
The toast.
Was any of that about me?
Or was it entirely about making sure I was angry enough at you that I wouldn't look too closely at Ren?"
The silence that followed was the longest yet.
"It was both," Vivienne said.
"I wanted to see you.
I wanted — I don't know what I wanted.
Something." Her voice shifted slightly.
Not soft.
But different.
"And yes.
If you were focused on me, you wouldn't be looking at the estate.
At what Ren had done with it."
"You used yourself as a distraction."
"I've been useful to Ren for twenty years," she said.
"I thought I might as well be useful to myself for once."
Fabio set the phone down on the table, still on speaker, and looked at the ceiling for a moment.
"Vivienne," he said.
"I'm going to give you one opportunity.
Come in.
Sit down with Grace and the attorneys.
Tell everything — all of it, from the beginning.
Cooperate fully.
In exchange, Grace will recommend to the attorneys that your cooperation be taken into account."
"That's not immunity."
"No.
It's not.
But it's better than what Ren is going to get."
A very long pause.
"When?" she said.
"Tomorrow morning.
Ten o'clock.
Grace's office."
Another pause.
"All right," she said.
She hung up.
Grace looked at Fabio.
"You know she might not show."
"I know."
"And if she does show, she'll try to control the narrative."
"I know that too." He picked up his coffee cup.
It was cold.
He drank it anyway.
"But she told me the truth tonight.
About Ren.
About the wedding." He set the cup down.
"I think she's tired."
"Tired people are unpredictable," Grace said.
"Tired people sometimes just want it to be over," I said.
Both of them looked at me.
"She left when Fabio was six," I said.
"She's been running ever since.
That's a long time to run."
Grace considered that.
Then she gathered her papers.
"Ten o'clock," she said.
"I'll have everything ready."
After she left, Fabio and I sat at the kitchen table in the quiet.
The ledger was still open.
The photographs were still there.
The index card with Clifton Marsh's name sat at the edge of the table like a small, patient thing that had been waiting a very long time to matter.
Fabio reached across the table and closed the ledger.
"Whatever happens tomorrow," he said, "I want you to know something."
"What?"
"I'm glad you were there.
At the storage unit.
At Grace's office.
At dinner with Ren." He looked at me.
"I couldn't have done any of this alone."
"You wouldn't have had to," I said.
"That's the point."
He reached across the table and took my hand.
Outside, the city was quiet.
The coffee was cold.
May you like
The ledger was closed.
And tomorrow was going to be the last day any of this had power over him.
