Chapter 3: The Web of Power

The study door creaked open as Vivienne stepped inside, the familiar scent of aged wood and leather wrapping around her like a comforting embrace. The room had always been her father's sanctuary—a place where he had crafted his empire with ruthless precision. Each book, each artifact, each framed photograph on the wall was a reminder of the power he had built, of the world he had molded. And now, it would be hers.

Her heart beat faster as she walked deeper into the room, her steps echoing against the polished hardwood floors. Her fingers brushed against the back of the leather chair that once belonged to her father. The weight of the moment pressed down on her, but she welcomed it. There would be no more running. No more hiding in the shadows of a family that had cast her aside.

The desk, once covered in piles of paperwork and blueprints for new acquisitions, was now neat and orderly, with only a few scattered documents resting on the surface. Vivienne’s eyes narrowed as she approached, her gaze settling on the papers.

She knew what they were—plans for the next major expansion of the Rothsford empire. Deals that would secure the family’s wealth for generations to come. And right at the center of it all, the key to everything: the Rothsford trust, the controlling stake in their vast fortune.

Her fingers brushed over the papers, but she didn’t move them. Not yet.

Vivienne’s mind raced as she pieced together the web of power that had kept her family at the top for so long. It wasn’t just about business deals, or acquisitions, or even the empire her father had built from the ground up. No, the true power was in the control of the family fortune, the hidden alliances, and the delicate balance of trust between her father, the board members, and the others who had their fingers in the Rothsford pie.

She had always known she would inherit it. She had been trained for it. But now, it seemed like a distant dream. Ivy had taken everything from her, and Vivienne knew she would have to fight for what was rightfully hers.

Her mind flickered back to the moment she had been thrown out of the estate, the look in Ivy’s eyes as her biological daughter had stood beside their parents, her hands clasped together like a perfect little angel. She had played her part well, too well.

Vivienne’s grip tightened on the desk, her nails digging into the wood. She had been the perfect daughter—loyal, obedient, and willing to do whatever it took to earn their love. But Ivy? Ivy had played them all like puppets. She had bided her time, waited for the right moment to strike, and when she did, it was with the precision of a master manipulator.

But Vivienne had something Ivy didn’t—experience. She had lived through the pain, the betrayal, and the ruin. She had been on the other side of the lie. Now, she would turn the tables.

The question was how.

“Vivienne.”

The voice came from behind her, breaking her thoughts. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Father,” she said, her voice calm, though her heart raced.

She turned slowly, her back straight as she faced the doorway. There, standing in the threshold, was Arthur Rothsford. His sharp blue eyes, so much like her own, studied her with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. He was older now, his hair peppered with gray, his face etched with the lines of age and experience, but he still held an air of authority that made his presence impossible to ignore.

“Vivienne,” he repeated, his voice cool. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“Why not?” she asked, her tone sharp. “It is my rightful place, after all.”

Arthur didn’t move, his eyes narrowing as he regarded her. “Your rightful place?” he echoed. “Your place was never here, Vivienne. You were a daughter by adoption. We gave you everything—every opportunity, every lesson, every chance to prove yourself. And yet you squandered it.”

Vivienne clenched her fists, but she held her ground. “You let Ivy destroy me,” she said, her voice low but firm. “You chose her. You believed her lies. And in doing so, you lost me. Your daughter.”

Arthur’s expression shifted, but it was only for a moment. “I didn’t choose Ivy,” he said, his voice hard. “Ivy came back. She has proven herself worthy of this family, Vivienne. You—”

“I was worthy,” she interrupted, her eyes burning with the sting of old wounds. “I was always worthy. But you never saw it, did you? You never wanted to see it. It was always about her, Ivy—the golden girl. The perfect daughter.”

Arthur’s gaze grew darker. “You need to let go of this bitterness, Vivienne,” he said, his voice cold. “It’s clouding your judgment. Ivy is the one who has earned her place here.”

Vivienne’s hands trembled, but she steadied herself. “Then I’ll earn mine, too. If that’s what it takes.”

Arthur’s eyes flickered with something—perhaps regret, perhaps something else—but he said nothing. He simply turned away and walked out of the study, leaving Vivienne standing alone in the heart of the empire she would take back.

The door clicked shut behind him, but Vivienne didn’t move. She stood there, taking in the silence that followed. The silence of a world on the brink of change.

Ivy had always been the favorite. The true daughter, the biological child who had been reclaimed after years of absence. But Vivienne had never been weak. She had been trained for this very moment, for the day when she would take what was hers.

Arthur’s words echoed in her mind: Ivy has proven herself worthy of this family.

Vivienne’s lips curled into a slow, determined smile.

She would show them. She would show them all.

Ivy might have been their golden child, but Vivienne was the one who had been groomed to inherit the empire. She had the knowledge. She had the experience. She had the drive. And if it took everything, she would remind them all who the true heir was.

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