The CEO's Rejected Wife And Secret Heir novel Chapter 130

Chapter 130: Chapter 130: Vivian’s Downfall Begins

Aria’s POV – One Week After Sentencing

Revenge, I’d learned, was most effective when served systematically.

"The paper trail is extensive," Margaret said, spreading documents across my office conference table. "Vivian and Sophia were in contact for months before the hotel incident. Dozens of calls, text messages, meetings at coffee shops. All documented."

"Conspiracy," I said, studying the phone records.

"Absolutely. The DA is building a case, but Vivian’s disappeared. No credit card activity, no phone pings, nothing." Margaret leaned back. "It’s like she went underground."

"Good." I smiled coldly. "Let her hide. It’ll make what comes next more satisfying."

"What are you planning?" Margaret’s expression was wary.

"Nothing illegal." I stacked the documents neatly. "Just strategic business moves that happen to impact my sister’s life."

"Aria"

"She tried to destroy my family, Margaret." My voice was cold. "She conspired with Sophia to drug Damien, stage those photos, tear us apart. And before that? She seduced my husband, helped my parents throw me out pregnant, and celebrated my suffering. So no—I’m not letting this go."

Margaret sighed. "What do you need from me?"

"Find out where she’s living. Where she’s working, if she’s working. Who her contacts are, what assets she has. Everything."

"Legal surveillance only," Margaret warned.

"Of course." I smiled. "I’m not breaking any laws. Just making informed business decisions."

It took three days for the report to come back. Vivian was living in a luxury apartment in the Diamond District—paid for by her wealthy fiancé, Bradford Whitmore III, heir to a shipping fortune.

"Interesting," I murmured, reading through the details. "She landed on her feet."

"For now," Olivia said from my office couch. She’d stopped by with coffee and had gotten sucked into my planning session. "What are you thinking?"

"I’m thinking that Bradford Whitmore is very old money, very traditional, very concerned with reputation." I pulled up my laptop. "And I’m thinking that the Diamond Towers apartment building where Vivian lives is currently for sale."

Olivia’s eyes widened. "You’re not"

"I’m buying it." I started typing. "Monroe Global has been looking to expand into real estate. This is a perfect opportunity."

"Aria, that’s"

"Strategic business." I looked up. "The building is undervalued, in a prime location, and has excellent potential for modernization. It’s a sound investment."

"And it happens to be where your sister lives."

"Happy coincidence." My smile was sharp.

The purchase went through in two weeks. Monroe Global now owned the Diamond Towers, along with all its leases and tenants.

Including Vivian’s apartment.

"Ms. Monroe," my new property manager, Roberts, said during our first meeting. "I’ve reviewed all the leases. Most are standard, but apartment 2847" He pulled up a file. "The tenant is months behind on rent."

"months?" I raised an eyebrow. "Why wasn’t she evicted?"

"The previous owners were... lenient. Apparently, she had personal connections."

"We don’t do lenient." I signed the eviction notice he’d prepared. "Standard thirty-day notice. If rent isn’t paid in full plus late fees, she’s out."

"Understood, Ms. Monroe."

Two days later, I got a call from Margaret."Vivian’s lawyer contacted me," she said. "Your sister wants to negotiate the eviction."

"There’s nothing to negotiate." I didn’t look up from my work. "She’s behind on rent. She pays in full or she’s evicted. Those are the terms."

"She’s claiming financial hardship"

"Then she should have paid her rent." My voice was cold. "Eviction stands."

The second part of my plan required more finesse.Bradford Whitmore III was a conservative man—sixties, recently widowed, looking for a young wife to grace his arm at charity events. Vivian fit the role perfectly: beautiful, charming, and apparently from a good family.

What Bradford didn’t know was that Vivian had been lying about everything.

"Mr. Whitmore’s private investigator is quite thorough," Richards, my head of security, said during our weekly briefing. "He’s been vetting Ms. Vivian for months before proposing."

"And?" I leaned forward.

"And his report is based on false information. Vivian claimed she was the primary heir to Monroe family wealth, that she left the family business due to ’creative differences,’ and that she’s never been in legal trouble."

"All lies," I said.

"All lies," Richards confirmed. "Would you like me to provide the investigator with accurate information?"

"Please do." I smiled. "I’m sure Mr. Whitmore would appreciate knowing the truth about his fiancée."

The truth was devastating: Vivian had embezzled $200,000 from Monroe family businesses before they collapsed. She’d been having an affair with a married board member—creating a scandal that cost him his position. She’d been involved in the conspiracy to drug and defame Damien Blackwood, only avoiding charges because she’d fled before being subpoenaed.

And most damning? She’d seduced and made out with her own sister’s husband, destroying a marriage and leaving her pregnant sister homeless.

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