PART 7 — The Last Brooks Secret

Vivian no longer looked sick.

No wheelchair. No shawl. No dark glasses.

Just a woman stripped down to what she had always been: polished cruelty with a pulse.

Behind her stood Cassidy, pale and trembling, holding a second gun in both hands.

My eyes locked on her stomach.

“You should not be here,” I said.

Cassidy’s lips quivered. “I know.”

Vivian snapped, “Be quiet.”

Detective Voss raised her hands slowly. “Vivian, there are officers outside.”

“No,” Vivian said. “There were officers outside. They are currently following a false emergency call to the riverfront.” She smiled. “Money still buys minutes.”

Ruth stepped in front of me.

Vivian laughed. “Still playing guardian angel? You failed the first time.”

Ruth’s voice shook with fury. “You murdered my son.”

“I cleaned up a family problem.”

The words struck like a blade.

No denial.

No hesitation.

My knees nearly gave.

Vivian looked at me. “Your father discovered too much. Your mother refused to sign back the shares. They chose defiance. Defiance has consequences.”

“You killed them,” I whispered.

“I ordered a mechanical failure,” Vivian said calmly. “The rain did the rest.”

Ruth made a wounded sound.

Detective Voss’s face had gone white.

“And you,” I said, turning to her. “Why is your name in the ledger?”

Vivian laughed before Voss could answer. “Because her father was one of ours. Dirty judge. Took money for years. Mara built her whole career pretending she didn’t come from rot.”

Detective Voss’s voice was raw. “I turned him in.”

“Yes,” Vivian said. “After he died conveniently and left you clean enough to play hero.”

Detective Voss flinched, and I understood.

She was not protecting Vivian.

She had been hunting her.

Maybe out of guilt. Maybe justice. Maybe both.

Vivian aimed the gun at me. “Now open the digital transfer file.”

“No.”

“Open it, or I shoot Ruth first.”

Ruth squeezed my hand. “Don’t.”

Cassidy began crying. “Vivian, please. This wasn’t the plan.”

Vivian turned her head slightly. “The plan was for you to keep Adrian obedient with that baby. You failed too.”

Cassidy’s face twisted.

Then she said the sentence that changed everything.

“It isn’t Adrian’s baby.”

Vivian froze.

Even the air seemed to stop.

Cassidy lowered her gun, tears streaming. “He thought it was. I let him think it. But it’s not his.”

Vivian’s eyes became murderous. “You stupid little—”

Detective Voss moved.

Fast.

Vivian fired.

The gunshot exploded in the small room.

Ruth screamed.

I fell back against the safe.

For one terrible second, I thought I had been hit.

Then I saw Detective Voss on the floor, blood spreading across her shoulder, still reaching for her weapon.

Vivian turned the gun back to me.

But Cassidy stepped between us.

“No more,” Cassidy whispered.

Vivian’s face curled. “Move.”

“No.”

“You think you’re family?”

Cassidy’s hand shook, but her voice steadied.

“No. And neither are you.”

She threw herself into Vivian.

The second gun went off into the ceiling.

Vivian slammed against the cabinet. Ruth grabbed my arm and shoved me toward the stairs, but I lunged for the open safe and seized the evidence drives.

Vivian clawed at Cassidy like an animal.

Detective Voss, bleeding, raised her gun with her good hand.

“Vivian Brooks,” she gasped, “drop it.”

Vivian swung around.

Another shot rang out.

Vivian’s pistol flew from her hand.

She collapsed against the metal cabinet, screaming, clutching her wrist.

Within minutes, real officers flooded the vault.

Cassidy sank to the floor, sobbing.

Detective Voss was lifted onto a stretcher, her face gray but alive.

Vivian was cuffed, still trying to curse us all into obedience.

As they dragged her past me, she smiled through pain.