Third Person's POV
"Those two idiots, George and his son, were sloppy. They left enough breadcrumbs for Mortimer to track the whole thing back to me."
Vivian let out a sharp, jagged huff, her nails dragging across the leather of the sofa. "If they'd just kept their mouths shut, Seraphina would be out on the street by now, not living her best life."
Lillian felt her blood run cold at her daughter's casual admission of malice.
She lunged forward, slamming her hand over Vivian's mouth. "Shut up! Do you actually want Rolf dead?" she hissed, cutting her eyes toward the heavy oak door.
"Don't let your father hear a word of this. Ever since he slapped you, he's been at his breaking point. No matter how much of a disappointment Rolf is, he's still Connor's only son."
Vivian shoved her mother
