Vivienne's POV
"Hello, old friend."
I heard Mac's voice through the darkness pulling at my mind.
My eyes wouldn't open. My body wouldn't move. But I could hear everything.
Ethan's sharp breath. His footsteps backing away from the door.
"Mac?" Ethan's voice shook. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing." Mac's footsteps entered Room 7. "But I already know the answer. You found her."
No, I thought desperately. Get up. Move. Do something.
But my body refused to listen. Whatever Rachel had given me—the water bottle she'd left on my nightstand this morning—it had me trapped inside myself.
"What did you do to her?" Ethan shouted. "Mac, what the hell is going on?"
"I saved your life, that's what." Mac's voice was cold. Nothing like the friendly lawyer I'd met weeks ago. "Three years ago, I saved you from prison. From losing everything. And this is how you repay me? By falling in love with the dead girl's sister?"
My heart screamed. Mac knew. He'd known all along.
"I don't understand," Ethan said.
"Of course you don't. You were too drunk to remember anything." Mac laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "That night, three years ago—you really thought you hit Lily Ashford by accident?"
Silence. Heavy and terrible.
"You called me, remember? Crying, saying you'd hit someone. I told you to go home, that I'd handle it. And I did handle it. I made sure no one would ever trace it back to you."
"But the photos," Ethan whispered. "The woman in the black sedan. She pointed at Lily. She—"
"That was Claire."
My mind reeled. Claire? Ethan's ex-fiancée?
"Your precious Claire came to me six months before the accident," Mac continued. "She wanted out of your engagement, but you'd just gotten that big promotion. If she left you, everyone would think she was terrible. But if something happened to you—if you got arrested, lost everything—then she'd be the victim. The poor woman who stood by her man until she just couldn't anymore."
"No." Ethan's voice cracked. "Claire wouldn't—"
"She paid me fifty thousand dollars to make you a killer."
The words hung in the air like poison.
I fought against whatever drug was in my system. Move. Get up. Help him.
"We researched you for months," Mac said. "Found out about your drinking. Your celebration habits. Claire knew you'd go out that night for your promotion. All I had to do was wait."
"Wait for what?" Ethan sounded like he was crying.
"For the perfect victim. Someone young. Someone whose death would destroy you completely." Mac's footsteps moved closer to where I lay on the floor. "Then Claire called. She'd found one. A college girl walking home alone. Lily Ashford."
No. No, no, no.
"Claire positioned Lily on that street at exactly the right time. Made sure she was in your path. You were so drunk, you never saw her until it was too late." Mac paused. "But here's the part you don't remember—you didn't kill her."
My eyes flew open.
I was staring at Mac's shoes. Everything was blurry, but I could see Ethan beyond him, frozen in shock.
"What?" Ethan whispered.
"The impact knocked her down, but she was still alive. Still breathing." Mac's voice was matter-of-fact, like he was discussing the weather. "You got out of your car, remember? You were screaming, trying to help her. You called 911."
"I... I did?"
"But then I arrived. I'd been following you all night, making sure everything went according to plan. I told you to leave. Told you that you were drunk and the police would arrest you. Told you I'd make sure she got help."
The room spun around me. Or maybe that was the drug.
"But you didn't call for help," Ethan said slowly.
"No. I waited with her until she stopped breathing. Then I made it look like a hit-and-run. No witnesses. No evidence. Just a tragic accident and a driver who fled the scene." Mac crouched down next to me. "And for three years, my plan worked perfectly. Claire got to leave you guilt-free. You got to live with your guilt instead of going to prison. And I got paid."
"You're a monster," Ethan choked out.
"I'm a lawyer. There's not much difference." Mac grabbed my arm and pulled me up roughly. My body was like a rag doll.
"Let her go!" Ethan lunged forward.
But Mac pulled out a gun.
"Don't move. I've worked too hard to let it all fall apart now."
My vision cleared a little more. I could see Ethan's face—horror, betrayal, rage all mixed together.
"Why now?" Ethan asked. "Why tell me this now?"
"Because she figured it out." Mac jerked his head toward me. "Vivienne found photos. Evidence. She was getting too close to the truth. And Rachel—sweet, helpful Rachel—she tried to set you both up at the warehouse. But that detective let you go. So now I have to clean up the mess myself."
"Rachel's your partner," I managed to croak out. My voice sounded strange and far away.
"Half-sister, actually," Mac said. "Rachel and I share a father—Marcus Ashford. Your father, Vivienne."
The world stopped.
No. That's impossible.
"Surprised? Rachel was the affair baby he never claimed. She's hated the Ashford family her whole life. When I told her my plan to hurt the golden daughters—Lily and you—she jumped at the chance." Mac smiled. "Rachel positioned Lily that night. Claire made sure Ethan would be drunk. And I made sure Lily would die."
"You killed my sister," I whispered.
"We all killed your sister," Mac corrected. "And now we're going to kill you too. But first, Ethan gets to watch. Just like he watched Lily die."
He pointed the gun at my head.
And Ethan screamed, "NO!"