Vivienne was sure of one thing: the woman on that live broadcast wasn't Karen.

With Karen's guilt already proven, who could've pulled off a switch like that?

Her nails dug so deep into her palms that they left crescent-shaped marks, tiny streaks of blood welling up. Her lips were pressed into a tight line, and her narrowed eyes practically burned with fury.

There was no way Vivienne was letting her get away with it.

Not. A. Chance.

Snatching her phone, Vivienne ...