Page 97 of Awakening the Beast
“I didn’t!” Vivienne shoots back, her voice trembling as she relives the past. “You know what Charles was like!”
The room feels like it’s closing in, the atmosphere thick with years of lies. I step in, trying to calm the situation. “Look, let’s all take a deep breath. Let her explain everything.”
We all stand frozen, staring at her, waiting. Vivienne takes a big inhale, straightening her back, though her hands tremble.
“I was, of course, Charles’ bit on the side, as he would call it. Coming to me only unleash the monster that lived within him,” she admits bitterly. “But after months of abuse, I fell pregnant.” She pauses to steady herself. “Charles was furious. At first, he wanted me to abort, but then something changed. He saidCarmella couldn’t conceive after their daughter, and she wanted a son.”
My brows furrow as the silence in the room deepens, suffocating.
“When I gave birth to two boys, Charles was adamant that Carmella didn’t want both,” she continues. “He said he would only bring up one boy with his wife. As her son and that was Arlo.”
Jasper’s voice cuts through the air, sharp and filled with anger. “And you agreed to this? Why?”
Vivienne shakes her head, her face crumpling as tears spill freely down her cheeks. “I didn’t agree. He forced my hand and took Arlo from me. I fought—I tried so hard to get him back. My God, I did. But it was finalized before I even had a chance. Charles made it his mission to destroy me, to keep me silent. Every time I tried to come near, he’d gaslight everyone, making everyone believe I was crazy. Even you. He drugged me, had me raped, beaten, and locked up more times than I can count. It wasn't until he was officially dead that I was able to break free.”
The room falls silent again, the weight of her confession pushing down on us like a cold blanket.
Vivienne’s voice softens. “But in time, I realized it wasn’t Charles who was the true monster.”
“What?” I ask, unsure if I heard her correctly.
Her eyes meet mine, locking onto me with a haunting gaze. “Carmella.”
I blink, taken aback. “Carmella what?”
“She orchestrated it all,” Vivienne admits. “And I had to sit back and watch it unfold, powerless. The way she treated him... used him... taught him. She hated him, resented him from the moment she laid eyes on him. She made him suffer for Charles' mistakes—and mine. But he let her. He knew what she was doing, and he went along with it. They were as bad as each other. In the end, they built a bond through the destruction of me and my boys. But no one suffered more than Arlo.”
Her words slice through me like a dagger to the heart, and I feel them sinking in, syllable by syllable. My eyes brim with unshed tears as a horrifying truth starts to bury itself deep inside me. This is why Carmella was never really maternal toward Arlo, why she never treated him like a son. All the subtle neglect, the cold distance—it all makes sense now. He wasn’t hers to love.
“She wanted power more than anyone in this city,” Vivienne continues, filled with regret. “Carmella would’ve torn everyone apart to get what she wanted. She didn’t care who she destroyed in the process, not even a child. Especially not Arlo.”
I feel my stomach churn, memories of Carmella’s icy demeanor toward Arlo flashing through my mind. It wasn’t just lack of interest. It was something darker, something that shaped who Arlo became. The distance, the hardness—it wasn’t only Charles' doing. Carmella had poisoned everything, moulding Arlo into a weapon to serve her own control. Her own hunger. She used him to gain and keep it all.
“So, what did you do?” I ask.
Vivienne’s eyes harden. “I set plans in motion,” she says. “I couldn’t stop everything while I was inside that place, but I triedto soften the damage. I had to. I knew if I didn’t, she would crush anyone who stood in her way.”
I nod for her to continue and her eyes flash to my moms, fixed and focused.
“I built my relationships and trust back up with secret allies within the Elites,” Vivienne continues, her voice gaining strength as if confessing her sins gives her some kind of release.
Behind me, my mom scoffs, the sound sharp and disgusted. It grabs my attention instantly, and I turn to look at her. She’s standing with her arms folded across her chest, her gaze avoiding mine, her expression darkened by something I can’t quite understand.
“First, it was you, Wren,” Vivienne says softly.
My eyes drift back to her, and I see the hesitation in her face, a sheepish look.
“After Bridget was murdered, I knew it was the beginning of Arlo’s downfall. The control they were starting to have over him,” she continues. “They were pressuring him to marry a woman who was simply using him, someone who would likely destroy him in the end. Another control freak bitch,” she spits out the last word with venom, and I don’t even have to ask—I know she’s talking about, Savannah.
The mere mention of that name sends a chill through me and I feel my jaw clench instinctively, but Vivienne’s words keep cutting deeper.
“Then I found out you had moved to New York, and it all made sense,” Vivienne says, her gaze easing as it meets mine.
Her tone makes me squint, suspicion prickling at the back of my mind. “What made sense?”
“I called my hacker,” she says, quieter now, as if she’s confessing something, “and had them make sure your job post on that website was the only one visible to Sara.”
For a second, I don’t understand and I zone out, trying to fit puzzle pieces that I can’t fit together.
