Chapter 6 - The Florida StandoffThree weeks after Preston signed the divorce papers, the corporate cleanup of Vance Logistics was nearly complete.
The firm had been rebranded as Mercer Global Logistics under my direct leadership as CEO. The stock had bounced back, rising forty percent in two weeks after Gideon announced a fifty-million-dollar institutional investment fund backing my strategy.
I was sitting in my private villa in Palm Beach, Florida—a property I had quietly purchased using recovered trust funds—enjoying a quiet morning on the patio overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.
Gideon sat across from me in a crisp linen shirt, reviewing global shipping forecasts on his tablet.
"You look peaceful, Vivian," Gideon said softly, his grey eyes softening as he looked at me.
"I am," I smiled, taking a sip of fresh orange juice. "For six years, I felt like I was drowning in someone else's storm. Now I can finally breathe."
Suddenly, the quiet morning was shattered by the sound of tires screeching on gravel.
A beaten-up rental car slammed to a stop outside my villa’s front gate.
Stepping out of the car was Cassidy Vaughn.
She looked unrecognizable. The glamorous blonde hair was tangled and unstyled, her designer clothes replaced by cheap sweatpants and a stained t-shirt. Her face was pale, sunken, and filled with wild, unstable fury.
She pushed past my gate security guard, screaming my name at the top of her lungs.
"VIVIAN! GET OUT HERE, YOU BITCH!"
Gideon immediately stood up, his jaw tightening into iron. "I'll handle this."
"No," I said, putting my hand on his arm. "Let her speak."
Cassidy marched onto the stone patio, stopping ten feet from our table. She pointed a trembling finger at my face.
"You ruined my life!" Cassidy shrieked, tears spilling down her cheeks. "You took everything from Preston! You froze his assets, you destroyed his reputation, and now the state of Florida won't even let me use my corporate credit cards!"
I sat back in my wicker chair, crossing my legs elegantly.
"You ruined your own life, Cassidy," I said calmly. "You decided to sleep with a married man, conspire to steal my inheritance, and mock my burn scars at a public event."
"You think you're so smart!" Cassidy yelled, reaching into her oversized handbag. "You think you won because you have Gideon Ashford standing behind you?!"
Gideon stepped forward, his body shielding mine instantly. "Put your hand out of that bag, Ms. Vaughn, or my security detail will end this interaction right now."
Cassidy pulled out a thick, stained manila folder and threw it onto our glass breakfast table.
"Look at it!" Cassidy screamed, laughing hysterically. "Look at what Preston kept in his private safe! It's the original fire investigation report from six years ago!"
My breath hitched in my throat.
I looked down at the dirty folder sitting on the table.
"What fire report?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
May you like
Cassidy’s face twisted into a grotesque, triumphant sneer.
"The summer house fire wasn't an accident, Vivian," Cassidy purred, her eyes burning with pure malice. "Preston set that fire himself to collect three million dollars in life insurance on you!"
