Helena stared at Vivienne, her tablet forgotten in her hands, her mouth opening and closing without sound.
"What?" she finally managed. "What are you talking about?"
Vivienne reclined on the lounger, swirling the last of her rosé with the kind of casual elegance that made the confession she'd just delivered seem almost reasonable.
"It's quite simple, really," she said, as if discussing weather rather than identity theft. "When I visited his villa this morning, I introduced myself as you. Helena Vanderbilt. My loyal cousin and assistant."
Helena's tablet slipped from her fingers, clattering against the stone poolside.
"You told him you were me?"
"I did."
"But... why would you..." Helena bent to retrieve the tablet, her movements jerky, uncoordinated. "I don't understand. Why not just introduce yourself as Vivienne? That was the entire point, wasn't it? To meet him yourself?"
Vivienne's smile faltered for just a heartbeat.
