Chapter 87 The Testimony
Patricia Ross sat across from Assistant District Attorney Jennifer Park, her hands tight together, eyes steady.
A court reporter tapped away in the corner, barely noticeable.
Jennifer started with the basics. "Ms. Ross, I appreciate you coming. I know this is tough."
Patricia didn’t flinch. "It's been twenty-three years. I'm ready."
Jennifer flipped through her folder. "So, back in 2001. Sterling Consulting. You were a junior analyst?"
"Yeah. Two years in."
"Viviana Mark Chen worked there too?"
"Senior analyst. Same level as my supervisor. We shared accounts sometimes."
Jennifer produced a letter. "This is your termination letter, right? Tell me what happened."
Patricia sighed. "Hoffman Industries. That was the client. A huge account. I was on their quarterly reports. Everything was fine, until June, when fifty thousand dollars disappeared from their retainer."
Jennifer raised her eyebrow. "Fifty thousand transferred out?"
"To an outside account. That launched an investigation. Led by Viviana. She came up with evidence showing the account was opened in my name. My signature. My social security number."
Jennifer looked her in the eye. "But you didn't open it?"
Patricia shook her head. "Not a chance. I'd never even heard of that bank. Never signed those papers. But they looked legit."
Jennifer slid a form over. "Is this it?"
Patricia glanced at it. "Yeah, that's the one."
"It looks like your signature?"
Patricia hesitated. "It does. But I didn't sign it."
Jennifer pressed, "How can you tell?"
"Because I was in Boston that day. I still have the receipts. Flights, hotel, everything. Wasn't anywhere near Manhattan."
Jennifer made a note. "Did you hand over that proof during the investigation?"
"I tried. Viviana said the account could've been opened earlier, that the date stamp wasn't ironclad. The company sided with her."
Jennifer’s voice softened. "Why?"
Patricia looked down. "She was sharp. Always professional. Had everything lined up. I was just a junior analyst. Easy to pin it on me."
Jennifer continued. "After you were fired?"
"I couldn't get a job. Everyone called Sterling for a reference. Viviana took every call. Told them I'd stolen, made me sound untrustworthy."
Jennifer leaned forward. "How do you know?"
"Margaret Walsh told me. Years later. She said Viviana personally handled my references. Made sure I couldn't work in finance again."
Jennifer nodded. "What happened then?"
"I took whatever I could get. Retail, waitressing. Anything with no background check. I had a finance degree, but I spent six years working at a grocery store."
Jennifer closed the folder. "Ms. Ross, if we press charges against Viviana Mark Chen, will you testify?"
"Absolutely."
"Even under cross-examination? Defense attorneys can be brutal."
Patricia met her gaze. "I've stayed quiet for twenty-three years. I'm done being afraid of her."
Karen White slid into the same chair Patricia had just vacated.
Different prosecutor. Same questions.
Michael Torres took the lead.
"Ms. White, you were at Spectrum PR from 2007 to 2008?"
"Yeah. That's right."
"And Viviana ?"
"My boss. I was an account coordinator. She was VP of Client Relations."
Michael cut to the chase. "What happened in May 2008?"
Karen’s hands clenched hard. "Client accused me of leaking secrets. Said I sold them to a competitor. Viviana found emails on my computer—messages to the rival firm with strategy details."
Michael didn’t mince words. "Did you send those emails?"
"No. I barely had access to anything confidential. I didn’t even know that email existed. It was in my name, but I'd never opened it, never used it."
Michael showed her the IT log. "Account created with your credentials, from your computer, while you were logged in."
Karen shook her head. "I wasn't at my desk. I spent all morning in meetings, in the third floor conference room."
Michael asked, "Can you back that up?"
"Meeting invites, notes from six people, and security cameras should show me sitting there for hours. I couldn't have been at my computer."
"Did you mention this?"
"I did. Viviana brushed it off. Told everyone I could've stepped away, or used remote access, or done it earlier and waited. She always had an answer. Made me look crazy."
Michael followed up. "After you got fired?"
"I was blacklisted. Same as Patricia, same as Rebecca Moreno. Viviana made sure every PR firm in New York got the story. I left for Chicago, changed careers."
"You still in PR?"
"No—I'm a teacher now. Middle school English. Half the pay."
Michael put the tablet aside. "If we charge Viviana, you'll testify?"
Karen nodded. "Count on it."
Jennifer Park sat with her supervisor, District Attorney Raymond Castillo. He scrolled through transcripts.
"Two more victims," Jennifer said. "Same setup—fake accounts, forged papers, investigations all run by Viviana herself."
Raymond kept reading. "Margaret Walsh has the receipts?"
"Twenty-two years’ worth. Emails, financials, call logs. She caught Viviana contacting employers directly."
Raymond frowned. "Defense will scream about context."
Jennifer shrugged. "Hard to misinterpret 'make it look organic so nobody questions it.'"
Raymond asked, "Rebecca Moreno—she's the lynchpin?"
"Yes. Rebecca died, and we can link it straight to Viviana. The others lost careers, but Rebecca lost her life."
"You think we can prove causation?"
"Medical records track a steep decline. Professional to full-blown alcoholism in under two years. Timeline lines up perfectly. We’ve got a psychiatrist ready to testify—talking about trauma response, reputation destruction, mental health collapse."
Raymond grimaced. "Still circumstantial—"
"But it’s strong. Four victims, all same method. One died. The others barely survived."
Raymond stood looking out the window.
"Elena Moreno is Rebecca’s daughter?"
"She’s the current victim. Same dirty tactics. Illegal database access, character assassination, everything. It’s the same playbook."
"So, we've got old cases, new cases."
Jennifer nodded. "Exactly. The old cases show the pattern. The new case is fresher—witnesses aren’t stuck relying on memories from decades ago."
Raymond looked at her. "Your recommendation?"
Jennifer slid a file across. "Full criminal investigation. Fraud, conspiracy, identity theft for the fake accounts, and witness tampering for those employer calls. We go after it all."
"RICO?"
"If we can show an ongoing criminal enterprise. That’ll be tougher. But fraud conspiracy is airtight."
Raymond paused, thought for a moment.
Then he said, "Do it. Open the case. Get a team. Subpoena anything missing. Interview everyone. Build it right."
Jennifer nodded. "This will go public. It's going to be everywhere."
Raymond glanced at the files. "Good. Maybe more victims will come forward. People who thought they had to stay quiet."
Jennifer headed for the door. "I’ll write up the announcement."
"Make it clear. This isn’t just an investigation—we’re building a case. Tell anyone with information to come forward."
"On it."
She left.
Raymond stared at the pile of papers.
Four women. Four ruined careers.
One death.
All tied to Viviana Mark Chen.
He picked up the phone. "Frank? I want everything on the Viviana case. Full court press. Priority one."
Jennifer Park stood at the podium, the Manhattan DA seal in full view. Reporters filled the room, bright lights everywhere.
She read her statement.
"Today, the Manhattan District Attorney’s office is announcing a criminal investigation into Viviana for fraud, conspiracy, identity theft, and related charges across several years and multiple victims."
Cameras flashed.
"We have credible evidence Ms. Mark systematically framed female colleagues, created fake documents, manipulated investigations, and sabotaged their careers even after they were terminated."
A reporter tried to cut in. Jennifer pressed on.
"We’re aware of at least four victims, possibly more. Anyone who thinks they’ve been targeted the same way should contact our office. All information stays confidential."
Another question shouted out. Jennifer lifted a hand.
"We’re not discussing specific evidence right now. The investigation is active. It’ll take weeks as we interview witnesses and gather proof."
"Ms. Park! Is this tied to Elena Moreno’s lawsuit?"
"It’s separate—civil case and criminal investigation. But some evidence overlaps."
"Is Viviana about to get arrested?"
"No decisions yet. That comes after the investigation."
"And other people involved—Christopher Sterling, Felicia Moreno?"
"Right now we're focusing on Viviana. If more evidence points to others, we’ll act."
Jennifer gathered her notes. "That’s it for now. Thanks."
Questions burst out as she walked away.
Her phone buzzed: Michael Torres texted, CNN just went live with it. It's everywhere.
She checked her news app. Breaking news: MANHATTAN DA OPENS CRIMINAL PROBE INTO CORPORATE FRAUD SCHEME
Within minutes, the story went viral.
Viviana watched the press conference from her laptop.
Jennifer Park’s voice echoed: "Systematic pattern of framing female colleagues..." "Multiple victims..." "Anyone who believes they were targeted..."
Viviana shut the laptop, grabbed her phone, called Harold.
He answered instantly. "I’m watching."
She didn’t waste time. "What does this mean?"
"It means they’re serious. The DA doesn’t call press conferences for nothing. They have enough evidence for a real investigation."
Viviana pressed. "Can they actually charge me?"
"If they find what they’re after, yes."
Viviana fumbled. "Statute of limitations—"
Harold cut her off. "Circumvented if they prove you hid what happened. You lived with Marcus, had access to Elena, never revealed what happened to Rebecca. That’s classic concealment."
Viviana’s hands trembled. "What do we do?"
Harold didn’t sugarcoat it. "Prepare. Think about plea deals—"
"Absolutely not."
"Viviana, if they build a strong case—"
"Then I’ll fight. In court. Public. I’m not pleading guilty."
"You’re allowed, but know what you’re choosing. Trials mean everything comes out. Every email, every victim, every ugly detail. The jury sees it all."
Viviana’s jaw clenched. "Good. Let them hear my side."
Harold sighed. "Your side is documented in emails where you admit framing people."
Viviana snapped back. "Those emails were private. Misunderstood—"
Harold was blunt. "I’m your lawyer. I’ll fight for you. But you need to face reality. The DA has everything. Witnesses, documents. They mean business."
Viviana hung up.
She sat in her study, alone.
She poured herself another glass of wine. Drank it slow, staring into the silence.
Her phone buzzed—Miranda, her crisis manager. Saw the press conference. We need to meet tonight.
Viviana ignored it.
Another buzz—board member: Sorry, with the DA investigation, I can't make a public statement right now. Hope you understand.
A third—former colleague: Viviana, I want to help, but legal says no public comments. Sorry.
One by one, her support vanished.
People willing to defend her in the press wouldn’t touch her now.
She set her phone down.
Poured more wine.
The house was silent. Marcus gone. Felicia gone. The staff had quit.
Just Viviana. Alone.
Once her house felt like a fortress.
Now it felt like a cage.
Her phone buzzed again.
She thought about ignoring it.
But she looked.
Unknown number, one line: They’re going to find them all. Every victim. Every crime. Every lie. You can’t hide anymore.
She deleted it. Powered off her phone.
Sat in darkness.
And for the first time—
Viviana didn’t have a plan.