Chapter 3: The Name They Tried to Bury
The lobby manager's name was Gerald Foss.
Charlotte had read his file on the flight back from Geneva.
Fifteen years at the Solmere.
Hired personally by her mother.
Loyal, her mother's notes had said.
Careful.
Trustworthy.
Charlotte had underlined that word and written a question mark beside it.
Now Gerald held the document with both hands.
His eyes moved across the page slowly, then stopped.
"Where did you get this?" he said.
"My mother's attorney gave it to me," Charlotte said.
"Three weeks after she passed."
Vivienne snatched the paper out of Gerald's hands.
"Give me that." Her eyes scanned the top line.
Then she laughed — short and sharp, like she'd heard a bad joke.
"This is fake.
This is obviously fake."
"The notary seal on page two is registered with the state of New York," Charlotte said.
"You're welcome to call and verify."
Vivienne's laugh faded.
The man near the front desk still hadn't moved.
His name was Dorian Holt — Vivienne's husband, and the man who had spent the last three years running the Solmere Empire as though it belonged to him.
He had a lawyer on retainer, two board seats, and a signed agreement that Charlotte's mother had never actually authorized.
Charlotte knew all of it.
She had known before she walked through the door.
"Dorian," Vivienne said.
Her voice had changed.
Quieter now.
"Tell her.
Tell her this is over."
Dorian finally moved.
He straightened his jacket and crossed the lobby toward Charlotte.
The guests parted slightly without realizing they were doing it.
"Miss Vale." His voice was smooth.
Practiced.
"I don't know who told you that document is valid, but I'd strongly recommend you speak with your legal counsel before making any public accusations.
This kind of scene—" he glanced around the lobby "—can have consequences you haven't considered."
"Is that a threat?" Charlotte said.
"It's advice."
"Then here's mine." Charlotte reached into her jacket again and placed a second document on the desk beside the first.
"That's a court filing from this morning.
Temporary injunction.
As of nine a.m.
today, no financial transactions can be processed through the Solmere Group without my written authorization."
Dorian's jaw tightened.
"You can't—"
"It's already done." Charlotte turned to Gerald.
"I'll need access to the executive floor.
And I'll need the security logs from the past thirty-six months."
Gerald looked at Dorian.
Then back at Charlotte.
His hands were still holding the first document.
"Of course, Ms.
Vale," he said quietly.
Vivienne stepped forward.
"You are not going anywhere in this building.
Do you understand me?
I will have you removed."
"By whom?" Charlotte said.
"The security team reports to the general manager.
The general manager reports to the board.
And the board—" she paused "—reports to the owner."
She let that land.
Vivienne opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Dorian put one hand on his wife's arm.
A small gesture.
A warning.
Charlotte watched him do it and understood something she hadn't fully confirmed until that moment: Vivienne didn't know everything.
Dorian had kept parts of this from her.
Which meant Vivienne was dangerous in a different way — not because she was calculating, but because she was about to find out she'd been used.
That would come later.
Right now, Charlotte had a building to reclaim.
She picked up both documents from the desk, folded them carefully, and placed them back in her jacket.
"Gerald," she said.
"The elevator, please."
Gerald moved toward the elevator bank without another word.
Dorian watched her go.
His expression had settled into something flat and unreadable.
But his right hand, hanging at his side, had curled into a fist.
May you like
He wasn't finished.
Charlotte knew that too.
