Chapter 145
Chapter 145
Ethan's POV
Tiffany was a Vanderbilt.
Serena's mother, Grace, had also been a Vanderbilt.
They were sisters.
Which meant Tiffany's real niece should have been Serena.
But Vivian had stolen Serena's identity. She'd taken her place, become Tiffany's "niece" in name, and earned the Rivera family's protection.
That was why the Riveras had gone after Crimson Jewelry with such relentless force.
The root of all this—Vivian's fraud. Her bone-deep jealousy and vicious scheming against Serena.
A wave of rage exploded in my chest, white-hot and suffocating. I almost said it out loud right then and there.
But I forced it down.
Now wasn't the time.
Even if I laid it all out in front of Tiffany and Brian, they wouldn't believe me. The old feud between the Blackwoods and the Vanderbilts was still too fresh. Anything I said would be dismissed as manipulation—just another Blackwood power play. Besides, whether or not to claim this connection was Serena's decision. Not mine.
I'd watch. I'd wait.
I fixed my gaze on Vivian.
I didn't bother masking anything—not the knowledge in my eyes, not the disgust, not the cold, cutting contempt.
I saw her body stiffen. Just slightly. Like I'd plucked a nerve she'd buried deep.
I turned back to Tiffany and Brian, my tone calm again.
"Mrs. Rivera, I didn't come here tonight to provoke anyone. I came to offer a word of advice: be careful who you trust. Don't let pretty words and carefully crafted masks blind you to the truth. Don't make a move that benefits your enemies and humiliates your family."
I paused, letting the weight of my words settle.
"Some people play the victim beautifully. But underneath? They're snakes. They manipulate, they use, they destroy—and they make you do the dirty work. You're both intelligent people. Don't let yourselves be played for fools."
I glanced at Lucas. "We're leaving."
I turned and walked out of the Rivera Estate without another word.
---
I made it to the car, slid into the back seat, and shut the door—
—only for it to be yanked open again.
Vivian stood there, breathless, her composure shattered. Panic bled through her eyes.
She grabbed the door frame, voice low and frantic. "Ethan! What the hell was that supposed to mean? 'Played for fools'? Say it to my face!"
I didn't even look at her. "Drive," I said to Lucas.
The engine purred to life.
"Ethan, what do you know? What are you trying to do?" Her knuckles went white as she clung to the door.
The car started rolling forward. She stumbled back, forced to let go.
I lowered the window.
Cold night air rushed in, sharp with the scent of oak trees and autumn. I turned my head and met her eyes.
Her face was pale. Bloodless. Her lips trembled.
I didn't bother softening my tone. "Vivian, how does it feel? Living under someone else's name? Soaking up love and protection that was never meant for you?"
Her mouth opened. No sound came out.
I smiled—cold, sharp. "You want to know what I meant? You already know. Instead of interrogating me, maybe you should start thinking about what happens when the truth comes out. Do you really think your 'dear aunt' and 'dear cousin' will still protect you then?"
I leaned forward slightly, enunciating every word. "Think carefully about your next move."
I raised the window.
"Drive."
I leaned back against the seat. The wound on my back throbbed—dull, heavy, burning deep in the muscle.
Lucas stayed silent. Smart man.
I closed my eyes.
Tiffany wasn't a bad person. She was just a woman who'd been used. Completely and utterly manipulated.
She thought she was protecting family. Defending blood.
She had no idea what kind of blood ran through Vivian's veins—or what kind of schemes festered in her heart.
This was a ticking bomb. And eventually, it would detonate right in the middle of the Rivera family.
Serena's battle was coming to an end.
But the final blow shouldn't come from me. That right belonged to her.
All I could do was drop the stone into the water—and watch the ripples spread.
---
A few days later, the Federal District Court delivered its verdict.
I didn't attend the hearing, but Lucas was there. He gave me a full report afterward.
Watson, representing Crimson Jewelry, had dismantled BioNova Labs' defense with surgical precision. Every argument, every excuse—crushed under the weight of ironclad evidence and flawless logic.
By the time the evidence was presented, the opposing legal team couldn't even finish a single rebuttal.
The judge issued a preliminary ruling on the spot: BioNova Labs was found in breach of contract. The court ordered them to immediately resume full supply of the rare fox pelts to Crimson Jewelry, compensate the company for all commercial losses, and cover the full cost of litigation.
The news spread like wildfire.
According to Lucas's sources, the industry was reeling. Suppliers who'd been watching from the sidelines—some of whom had entertained thoughts of cutting ties with Crimson Jewelry—went dead silent. No one wanted to be the next target.
Within days, several key material suppliers personally called Harlan and Serena, their tones deferential, apologetic. They expressed regret for any "misunderstandings" and eagerly proposed deeper strategic partnerships.