Vivian Hale didn’t knock.

She never did.

She walked straight into Aria’s studio like it belonged to her, heels clicking, sunglasses still on, the scent of expensive threat trailing behind her.

She laid a cream envelope on Aria’s desk.

“It’s not a bribe,” she said.
“It’s an opportunity.”

Aria didn’t touch it.

“Walk me through it,” she said coldly.

Vivian smiled. “Three shell firms. Independent but deeply liquid. They’ll restore the lost Paris sponsorships anonymously, boost the foundation’s endowment, and fund the next two Vale Collective cohorts—no press, no strings.”

“There’s always a string.”

Vivian removed her glasses. “Not this time. Just one suggestion.”

Aria waited.

“Step down publicly from Vale Interiors. Hand the day-to-day to Mira or one of your rising stars. Say you’re focusing on ‘thought leadership.’ Reinvention. Let the headlines soften.”

“You want me to disappear.”

“No,” Vivian said. “I want you to survive the system you just humiliated. Long enough to rewrite it.”

Aria stared at the envelope.

It was polished. Elegant. Bloodless.

“I didn’t come this far to fade out for PR comfort,” she said.

Vivian raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t about comfort. It’s about endurance. You’ve already won the moral war. But the financial war? That takes compromise.”

“Or conviction,” Aria said.

Vivian stepped back, cool and composed.

“You can be right. Or you can stay standing. Very few people get to be both for long.”

She turned to leave, then paused.

“One more thing.”

“What?”

Vivian’s voice dropped just enough to sound human.

“You scared Marcus. Right up until the end. And trust me, that was no small feat.”

Then she walked out.

Aria stared at the envelope for a long time.

She didn’t open it.

Not yet.

She picked up her phone. Called the only person who knew how deep her stubbornness ran.

Dominic answered immediately.

“There’s an offer on the table,” she said.

“Yours or theirs?”

“Theirs. But it’s dressed up to look like mine.”

He didn’t ask what was in it.

He just asked: “What do you want?”

She closed her eyes.

Breathed in.

Breathed out.

And said, clearly:

“To stay visible. Even if it costs me.”