Chapter 287 Teach Mason a Lesson

Chapter 287 Teach Mason a Lesson



Just the thought of it — drive Vivian away, and Mom would come back to them?

Could that really be true?

Sean glanced up at Charles, something uneasy stirring quietly in his chest. He wrestled with it for a long moment, but in the end, he didn't challenge a single word Charles had said.

Because he couldn't afford to lose Charles completely.

Not even close.

……

"Mr. Stuart, where to next?"

Eli had watched the whole exchange between Charles and Sean without missing a beat.

Privately, he found their remorse hollow — performative, almost laughable. But keeping his job mattered more than his opinions, so he did what an assistant was supposed to do and asked Charles for direction.

"The Fisher place."

At the question, something shifted behind Charles's eyes. After a brief pause, he pulled out his phone and started typing, a cold, quiet scoff escaping him as he did.

"Didn't you say Vivian managed to get Mason off the hook? Take me to him. I have a few questions that need answering."

"Of course."

Eli felt the barely-contained menace radiating off Charles from the front seat. He wet his lips, kept every stray thought to himself, and quietly pressed down on the gas.

……

"Charles — what are you doing here?"

"Someone with enough pull to contact both my grandfather and my father and order me back to the Stuart estate immediately. That wouldn't happen to be you, would it?"

"What's your problem? We're friends — if you needed something, you could've just called me. Why the hell did you have to drag my family into this?"

Two hours later, Charles walked into the Fisher family's living room with Sean's hand in his, the family's head butler leading the way.

The room was full.

Not just Mason — his grandfather and his parents were there too, all seated on the couches.

The moment Mason registered who had just walked through the door, his eyes went wide. A beat later, his expression curdled into something accusatory.

This idiot. Even now, he still hadn't realized the danger closing in around him.

Thank God someone in the Fisher family had a functioning brain.

"Mason. Shut your mouth."

The words had barely left Mason's lips before Nathan was on his feet, landing a sharp kick squarely against him.

Then Nathan turned toward Charles, his expression smoothing into something carefully accommodating.

"Mr. Stuart, Mason doesn't know when to quit — please don't take anything he just said to heart. Come in, sit down. I think I already know why you're here."

"You have my word — whatever you want to know, you can ask Mason directly. I'll make sure he answers every single question. Honestly."

"And if he tries to lie to you? You won't even have to ask. I'll personally have him sent back to prison and cut him off for good."

Good. Charles thought. Let's see if he means it.

He spared Nathan a brief glance, then stepped past Mason entirely and settled onto the couch beside Nathan, pulling Sean close.

"Charles, what the hell is this?"

It finally hit Mason that something had gone sideways. He moved toward Charles, falling back on an old habit — the kind of emotional leverage he'd used before, reminding Charles that he once saved his life.

He didn't get far.

"Mason." Charles cut him off cleanly. "Relax. All I want is for you to tell me a few things. Cooperate, and I won't touch you. I won't touch the Fisher family either."

Charles raised his eyes slowly, his expression flat as he held Mason's gaze.

"But if you decide to make this difficult — I'll take back every resource and opportunity I ever handed you. And then I'll come after the Fisher family directly."

"You know as well as I do — the Stuart Group may have hit some turbulence lately, but making life very difficult for the Fisher family? That's still well within my reach."

Mason's pupils shrank. The color drained from his face fast.

"Fine." His voice came out quieter. "What do you want to know?"

"A few nights ago, at Michael's party, you told Vivian you had something on her. So tell me — what, exactly? What did Vivian use you to do? How many times?"

Charles leaned back, crossed one leg over the other, and waited.

"Something on her?" Mason's expression cracked. He stumbled back a few steps. "Charles, I think you misheard. Vivian is sweet — she would never use me to hurt anyone."

"Even now, you're still covering for her?"

Charles let out a short, contemptuous laugh and didn't bother pressing further. He turned his head and looked at Nathan instead.

"Mr. Fisher, Mason must really love Vivian. Enough to let your entire family go down with her."

"You useless — " Nathan's face darkened. He was on his feet in an instant, and the slaps landed hard and fast. "Every time you threw this family under the bus for that woman, I let it go. But today, what you decide right now determines whether we survive this."

"You're still protecting her? You want us dead?"

Nathan turned toward the doorway. "Butler — bring me my belt. I'll handle this myself."

He shrugged off his suit jacket and dropped it.

He wasn't being dramatic. In that moment, the fury in his eyes was completely real.

"Okay — okay. Stop. I was wrong. I'll talk."

Mason grabbed Nathan's arm, rattling with panic, and directed the butler to go to his room and bring out everything he'd been holding onto for the past year.

What came back was a pile.

Videos and photographs — Mason and Vivian, together.

And several small voice recorders.

Each one held recorded conversations between Mason and Vivian.

Conversations that made one thing unmistakably clear: every time Mason had gone after Seraphine, Vivian had been the one whispering in his ear first.

Tripping Seraphine at Vivian's welcome party. Sending men to assault her. Personally leading a crew to trash Seraphine's studio.

Every one of those incidents wore Mason's face.

But behind every single one of them stood Vivian.

"Mason, what are you so afraid of? Charles is already divorced from Seraphine — and you know better than anyone, the person Charles has always wanted is me. He doesn't care what happens to Seraphine."

"So even if you have your people destroy the Sawyer home, assault Seraphine, take photos — Charles isn't going to blame you for it."

"Go. Tear apart Seraphine's studio. If Charles gets angry, I'll handle it."

In the Fisher family's living room, the recorder's light was still on.

Vivian's voice — cool, deliberate, laced with something sharp — rang out without distortion.

Crystal clear.