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Vivien stormed in, two men in dark suits at her heels, briefcases swinging.
“Vivien, what are you—” Arthur said.
She pointed at me. “You gold digger! I know what you’re up to, and I won’t let you manipulate my father into signing his fortune away. My lawyers have already drafted a petition. Elder abuse. Undue influence.”
One of the suited men stepped forward, holding out papers. “You’ll want to read these carefully.”
“And there’s more,” Vivien said, smiling now. “I’ve already spoken with a friend at social services. A woman who marries a dying millionaire for money? That raises serious questions about her child’s welfare.”
“You gold digger! I know what you’re up to.”
“Don’t you dare touch my son!”
“Then disappear quietly. Or I’ll have your brat taken before the week is out.”
“Vivien, stop this,” Arthur said, his voice cracking.
“You stop, Father. You’ve embarrassed this family enough.”
“I said stop—”
Arthur’s hand flew to his chest. His face went pale, then gray. He stumbled forward against the desk.
“Don’t you dare touch my son!”
He collapsed onto the carpet.
“Someone call an ambulance!” I screamed, dropping to my knees beside him. “Arthur, stay with me. Please stay with me.”
His lips moved, barely a whisper. “The Bible… Eleanor’s Bible… read it…”
“What?”
Vivien stood frozen for one second, then turned to her lawyers. “Get the documents. Now!”
“Eleanor’s Bible… read it…”
“You will not touch one paper in this room,” I said, rising to my feet, blocking the desk with my body.
For the first time in my life, I wasn’t shaking from fear. I was shaking with fury.
“Move!” Vivian snapped.
“Your father is dying on this floor, and you’re reaching for paperwork. You want to talk about elder abuse? Look in a mirror, Vivien.”
Sirens wailed in the distance. One of the staff must’ve heard the commotion and called for an ambulance.
I was shaking with fury.