Off The Hook

Vivienne stopped in her tracks, turning back to face Desmond. "I am done with the Davenport family," she stated, her tone flat but laced with an unyielding edge. "I need a secure place to crash. Do you have any properties lying around that I could borrow for a year or two? I am looking for somewhere quiet. Not a lot of neighbors. It needs tight security. I need to dodge the endless, toxic drama my family brings, not to mention Camilla's inevitable showbiz sabotage."

Since Vivienne returned to the family fold, Camilla had dragged her into the entertainment industry under the guise of sisterly support. In reality, it was a calculated scheme. Camilla hoarded the saintly, leading lady roles and shoved Vivienne into playing the bitter, irredeemable villains. The setup was designed to ruin Vivienne's reputation, leaving Camilla basking in the limelight as Miss Goody Two-Shoes while the public despised Vivienne. Staying in a regular hotel long-term was a terrible idea. It would keep her right on the Davenports' radar. Even if they could not physically harm her, their relentless harassment was an exhausting headache she refused to endure. She could not purchase a place in Oakhaven on such short notice.

Desmond remained unfazed by the sudden demand. "Cliffside Residence Mansion No. 1," he offered, leaning back slightly. "It is secluded. High-tech smart locks on every door. Text me on WhatsApp, and I will send you the access codes."

Vivienne pulled out her phone, sending him a quick message. His reply came through seconds later—an address and a string of secure digits. She gave a curt nod of thanks and left the suite. Preferring to wait until daylight to move into such grandeur, she headed downstairs and booked a standard room in the hotel for the night.

Her hard-won peace shattered at dawn.

Before Vivienne even opened her eyes, the hotel room door crashed open against the wall. Heavy footsteps flooded the space.

"Get up!" Nathaniel bellowed. He grabbed the edge of her duvet and ripped it away, throwing it onto the floor.

Vivienne bolted upright. She stared at the intruders filling her small room. The Davenport family had arrived in full force, flanked by a wall of imposing bodyguards. She clamped down on her raging temper, keeping her expression frozen. Did it ever cross his mind that she might sleep naked? She glared at Nathaniel, pulling the remaining sheet over her legs.

Richard pushed past his son, his face flushed with anger. He slapped a thick stack of papers onto the mattress right next to her knee. "Stand up and sign this transfer agreement!"

Vivienne picked up the document. She flipped to the second page, scanning the legal jargon. It was exactly what she expected. They wanted to force her to sign away the thirty percent company shares her grandfather had legally bequeathed to her.

"Granddad left these shares to me," Vivienne said, tossing the papers back onto the sheets. "I am not signing anything."

Richard’s face contorted. "Those shares are Davenport property! If you refuse to be part of this family, why are you clinging to our assets?"

Harrison sneered from the corner of the room. "I never figured you for the greedy type. You just want to siphon the company dry."

"You should take a page out of Camilla's book," Declan chimed in. "She is not hoarding shares like a parasite."

Vivienne let out a cold, sharp laugh. Camilla held a fraction of a percent. Of course she was not hoarding shares.

Stepping forward with a patronizing, sickeningly sweet smile, Camilla clasped her hands together. "Vivienne, let us not fight with Dad over this," she pleaded, her voice dripping with fake concern. "Your shares are barely worth anything on their own. Just hand them over. Agree to sign, and I will personally give you twenty thousand dollars to help you get on your feet. Deal?"

Richard and his sons nodded in approval, clearly believing Camilla was acting like a saint.

Vivienne stared at Camilla. She burst into another round of icy laughter. They were attempting to buy out a billion-dollar corporate stake with pocket change. Did they think she was desperate?

"And if I decline your generous offer?" Vivienne challenged, tilting her chin up.

Richard’s eyes darkened. "Then you will have a very short, miserable life. Choose. We will get those shares one way or another. I am giving you a chance for the sake of the family name. Figure out what is best for you!"

Even though Vivienne felt no emotional connection to these people, hearing her biological father threaten her life over corporate control sparked a flicker of disgust. Calmly pulling her knees to her chest, she took control of the room.

"Fine," Vivienne said. "I will sign your agreement. But strictly on my own terms."

Richard narrowed his eyes. "What terms?"

"I want sixty million dollars in cash," she demanded, her voice steady and resolute. "And a legally binding severance document. It must cut all ties, obligations, and promises between us. Now and forever." There was no explicit law to erase biological ties, but a contract waving all future claims and familial obligations would serve the exact same purpose.

Camilla gasped, her saintly mask slipping. "You think you can demand sixty million dollars from us?"

"You are jumping from twenty thousand to sixty million?" Harrison shouted, stepping forward. "Is money the only thing you care about?"

Declan pointed an accusing finger at her. "Your shares are not worth sixty million! This is extortion!"

Vivienne smiled smugly. "You just said my shares are worth peanuts. So, buy them for sixty million. Also, let me give you a reality check. I drafted an ironclad will yesterday. If I die, or if something tragic happens to me before I transfer these shares, they default straight to the government. You will get nothing. Do you really want to test me?"

The room fell dead silent. The Davenports glared at her, their faces pale with fury.

"No way!" the Davenport family hollered in unison.

"Come on, did you not just say my shares are not worth that much?" Vivienne teased, pushing their buttons with deliberate precision.

"You are bluffing," Richard growled.

"Try me," Vivienne shot back. "I had a lawyer value the shares. They are worth billions. Asking for sixty million is me giving you a massive discount."

Camilla bit her lip, forcing tears into her eyes. "Who knew you could be so vicious, making a will just to trap us. I guess we were never family to you. After everything we gave you, this is how you repay us?"

Vivienne grabbed a heavy glass ashtray from the bedside table and hurled it straight at Nathaniel, who had just opened his mouth to defend Camilla. The glass shattered against the wall inches from his head.

"Shut up," Vivienne commanded. "I am sick of listening to your garbage."

The Davenports froze, remembering her volatile temper. No one dared to push her further.

Cornered by her logic and seething with rage, Richard ground his teeth together. "Fine! We have a deal."

Vivienne shooed them out into the hallway so she could get dressed. Ten minutes later, she emerged, ready to collect.

Their first stop was the bank. The VIP manager ushered them into a private room. Richard sat across from Vivienne, his face a mask of bitter resentment as he authorized the wire transfer. Sixty million dollars moved from his account into hers. Demonstrating her meticulous cunning, Vivienne forced the bank manager to draft a supplementary form labeling the transfer legally as an unconditional gift. This ensured Richard could never sue to reclaim the money later.

Next, the group relocated to a high-end law firm downtown. Richard’s legal team had drafted the severance document during the car ride. They laid it out on the glossy conference table.

Vivienne picked up the contract. She was no legal expert, but she knew how to spot a trap. She snapped a picture of the pages and texted it to Desmond.

[Have your lawyer review this. Tell me if they left loopholes.]

A few minutes later, her screen lit up with Desmond’s reply.

[It is solid.]

Without a shred of remorse, Vivienne picked up a pen and signed away her biological family ties. She pushed the severance document toward Richard.

Richard shoved the share transfer form across the mahogany table. "Let us wrap this up. Sign it."

Vivienne smirked. She signed her name on the dotted line, her strokes bold and fluid. The shares were already in Desmond's name. She felt no hesitation.

The Davenports clustered around the signed transfer form, their eyes gleaming with greedy triumph. They were so focused on the paper that they did not even notice Vivienne stand up and walk out the door.

Triumphant and gloating, Richard and his children rushed straight to the Commerce Office to finalize the corporate takeover. They bypassed the standard queue and slammed the transfer document onto the registrar's desk.

"We need to execute this share transfer immediately," Richard ordered.

The clerk typed on the keyboard, bringing up the Davenport Group's corporate registry. A frown formed on his face. "Sir, I cannot process this. There are no shares under Vivienne Vance's name. This paper is worthless."

Richard slammed his fist on the desk. "What? Vivienne holds thirty percent of Davenport Group! Check again. Your system must be broken."

"Please hold," the clerk said, typing faster. A moment later, he looked up, his expression grim. "I found the record. She did own thirty percent. However, those shares were officially transferred to a new owner at eight o'clock this morning. This transfer form you have is invalid."

Richard’s jaw dropped. The rest of the family stood paralyzed in shock.

"Who has them now?" Richard choked out.

"Mr. Desmond Kensington," the clerk replied.

Richard’s world spun. Camilla rushed forward to grip his arm and steady him.

"She sold us out to our biggest rival!" Richard roared, his voice echoing through the quiet office. The devastating bombshell hit them with full force. Vivienne had not just sold the shares. She had swindled them out of sixty million dollars in the process.

While her former family suffered a massive meltdown, Vivienne strolled into a high-end luxury mall. She had left the hotel with nothing but the clothes on her back and her ID, so a new wardrobe was a necessity.

She stepped into a sprawling designer boutique. Operating with ruthless efficiency, she pointed at racks of clothing, picking out thirty different outfits in less than ten minutes. She moved on to the footwear section, selecting pairs of stilettos, boots, and casual sneakers. Handbags, diamond jewelry, and silk scarves followed.

She swiped her card, dropping a staggering two million dollars without a second thought. She instructed the store manager to have everything delivered to the Cliffside mansion address Desmond had provided.

Satisfied, Vivienne headed for the mall's main exit.

Before she could reach the glass doors, the furious Davenports swarmed her. They had tracked her down and were panting, their faces red with exertion and rage.

"You are the worst kind of person!" Nathaniel screamed, stepping directly into her path. "You sold the shares and absconded with our sixty million! Give the money back right now!"

Vivienne crossed her arms, fixing him with a cool, deadpan stare. "You should have double-checked what you were signing before you handed over the cash. That is on you, not me. Plus, I just took what you owed me for the last twenty years. Not my fault."

Richard’s eyes burned with hatred. "You are going to regret tricking us."

"Dad, please do not cause a scene," Camilla whispered, looking around at the shoppers stopping to stare. "We cannot have people gossiping about us."

Ignoring her, Richard glared at his sons. "Grab her! We are taking her with us."

Harrison and Declan lunged forward.

Before their fingers could even brush Vivienne’s jacket, two massive, broad-shouldered bodyguards materialized out of thin air. They stepped firmly between Vivienne and the advancing brothers, crossing their arms and forming an impenetrable human wall.

"Who are you?" Nathaniel demanded, taking a step back. "Move! This is family business."

The bodyguard on the left stared down at Nathaniel with lethal calm. "We are here for Ms. Vance. Mr. Kensington ordered us to protect her, full stop."

Terrified of crossing Desmond's immense power, the Davenport family froze in their tracks. The name alone carried enough weight to crush their entire business empire. There was only one person in Oakhaven referred to as Mr. Kensington. Desmond.

Nathaniel’s bravado shattered. He looked at Vivienne, his voice dropping into a desperate, pleading whine. "Vivienne, please. Just come home. We are still family."

Vivienne answered by stepping around the bodyguard and slapping Nathaniel hard across the face. The sharp crack echoed through the mall lobby.

"I told you I am done with you," she hissed. "Goodbye."

Before he could recover from the sting, she delivered a swift, punishing kick to his shin. Nathaniel yelped, stumbling backward into Harrison.

Striding past them, Vivienne pushed through the glass exit doors, her head held high. The remaining Davenports scattered, clearing out rapidly in fear of the bodyguards and Vivienne's brutal retaliation.

The bodyguards escorted her to a sleek black SUV and drove her straight to Desmond's breathtakingly lavish Cliffside mansion.

Pulling up the winding driveway, the estate revealed its fairytale grandeur. Towering pillars, expansive glass windows overlooking the ocean, and manicured gardens stretched for acres. The delivery vans from the mall were already parked out front.

Vivienne ignored the majestic scenery. She instructed the guards and delivery staff to haul her shopping bags inside, bypassing the massive living rooms and sweeping staircases. The Davenports probably assumed she was wandering the streets, but she was living in a palace far beyond anything they owned. She headed straight for the master bedroom to settle in.

The moment she sat on the edge of the plush king-sized bed, her phone vibrated. The screen lit up with a barrage of incoming calls. First her father, then her mother. Then Camilla, Harrison, and Declan.

Operating with cold, calculated detachment, she tapped the screen. Decline. Block. Decline. Block. She blacklisted every single number associated with the Davenport household.

Finally, Nathaniel tried his luck. His name flashed on the screen.

Vivienne tapped the green button and raised the phone to her ear.

"Vivienne, you need to—"

"Try me again, and you will regret it," she warned, cutting him off with a chilling whisper.

She hung up before he could utter a single syllable and permanently blocked his number. Tossing the phone onto the mattress, Vivienne let out a long breath, a triumphant satisfaction settling deep in her chest.

Meanwhile, over at the Davenport residence, the atmosphere was thick with gloom and frustration. The family sat in the opulent living room, nursing their monumental loss.

Nathaniel paced back and forth, rubbing his bruised shin and whining to the rest of the room.

"She picked up the phone just to scream at me!" he complained loudly, waving his device in the air. "She specifically yelled at me before blocking my number! That is Vivienne for you!"