Mark blinked, his mouth opening and closing as the truth finally started to sink in.
"What? No... Liv, I told you, I was trying to help you."
Lyvana stared at him coldly for a mont before speaking.
"Then explain to what exactly happened? Make understand?"
Mark swallowed hard and quickly motioned toward the chairs.
"Please... sit down," he said.
Neither Lyvana nor Marco moved.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, Catalina contacted a few days ago. She sounded angry... obsessed, honestly. She kept talking about ruining your company. She said they had a way to destroy Aurora’s reputation permanently. At first, I thought she was just venting, but then she ntioned counterfeit products at a warehouse."
"What are you saying?" Susan asked frowning. "Who is Catalina?"
"Soone completely insane."
"Why didn’t you go to the police?" Lyvana asked.
"It would have been my word against hers! I was only trying to stop it quietly!"
"So your brilliant solution was going to a lawyer?"
Mark opened his mouth... then closed it again. When she said it out loud like that, he realized how incredibly stupid it sounded.
"You said Catalina wasn’t alone," Lyvana said quietly, stepping closer. "Who was with her?"
"I don’t know his real na," he admitted. "She called him Pep."
The second the na left his mouth, Marco’s expression darkened imdiately.
Lyvana noticed it at once. "Do you know him?" she asked.
Marco’s jaw tightened.
"I know of him. He is a freelance contractor."
Lyvana leaned forward slightly. "Contractor for what?"
"For whoever can afford him," he said flatly. "Weapons procurent. Surveillance. Assassinations, if the price is high enough. He specializes in making problems disappear."
Mark turned pale.
Marco continued, "And he’s careful. No records. No trail. ’Pep’ isn’t his real na. It’s just the alias he uses."
Mark swallowed hard, looking between them like he’d just realized how deep he’d stepped in.
"I didn’t know it was that bad," he muttered. "She said it was just business sabotage. Scare tactics."
"Scare tactics don’t end with snipers on rooftops," Lyvana said quietly.
Mark imdiately shook his head.
"I swear, I didn’t know," he said. "After the warehouse incident, Catalina said Pep would handle the ’cleanup.’ I thought she ant getting rid of the evidence. The boxes, the equipnt, I didn’t think..."
"You didn’t think," Marco cut him off. "That’s the problem."
Lyvana held up her hand, stopping Marco before he could push further.
"So, who gave you the photos and Alaric’s contact information?"
"It was Pep," Mark whispered.
"I plan to press charges," Lyvana stated calmly, "but I am going to need your testimony."
A short, humorless laugh escaped Susan from across the room. Susan pointed a finger at her. "You foolish girl! You want to have my son arrested?"
Mark looked at Lyvana like she had just asked him to sign his own death warrant.
"You know I can’t do that," he said, shaking his head imdiately. "If I testify, my political career is over!"
"You don’t seem to realize, you’re already in this. Whether you ant to be or not," Lyvana replied. "Think about it. Which side would you really want to be on."
With that she walked out with Marco behind her.
He walked to the bar for another drink.
Before he could take a sip, his phone buzzed violently in his hand. The screen lit up with an unknown number. Mark quickly answered it, desperate for a distraction.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Mark Vaughn? This is Inspector Duncan. We need you to co to the station for questioning regarding an ongoing investigation tied to fraud, conspiracy, and attempted corporate sabotage."
Mark’s face lost all color instantly.
"What? No, there has to be so mistake! Why am I being questioned?"
"We received information linking your na to a warehouse operation that was raided tonight."
"I am happy to cooperate. I will report to the station tomorrow morning with counsel. Goodnight, officer."
"What was that about? Who was that on the phone?" Susan demanded.
"The police want to co in for questioning."
"Questioning?!" Susan’s face twisted in absolute disgust and horror. "We can’t have this scandal! Mark, you are a political candidate! If the press gets even a whisper of this, everything we’ve built, everything your father and I have sacrificed for your campaign, goes down the drain!"
She paced back and forth, her heels clicking sharp and fast against the floor.
"And who the hell is this Catalina person you were just rambling about? So psychotic girl dragging you into warehouse raids and counterfeit sches? How could you be so utterly reckless?!"
Mark stared down at the drink in his hand, the ice rattling against the glass as his fingers trembled.
"Mother, stop screaming. I told the officer I’d go in tomorrow with our lawyers. I can handle it."
"Handle it?" Susan’s voice rose sharply. "You think a high-priced lawyer can just sweep the police under the rug? The mont you step into that station, it becos public record. Your opponents will have a field day!"
She suddenly stopped, her eyes wide as an idea struck her. She whipped her head toward the grand double doors of the living room, where Lyvana and Marco had just exited monts ago.
"Lyvana..." she whispered, then turned to Mark. "You need to convince her not to press charges. That’s the only way."
Mark only stared at her but said nothing.
Outside, Lyvana sat quietly in the backseat as Marco drove her to her grandmother’s house.
The city lights blurred past the window in streaks of brilliant, cold color. All she had ever wanted after everything she had been through was a simple, peaceful life.
Instead, there were responsibilities. Endless plans. Problems that multiplied no matter how many fires she managed to put out. Every ti she cleared one hurdle, two more appeared waiting for her.
She leaned her head against the cool glass, letting the steady hum of the engine soothe her frayed nerves. For a few precious monts, she wanted to stop thinking altogether.
But she couldn’t ignore the truth any longer. Everything was still leading toward the sa inevitable end.
Her death.
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