Somewhere a black car pulled along a rainy street to stop in front of a large church. The driver, dressed neatly in a black suit, stepped out from the vehicle and opened an umbrella. He quickly walked to the passenger side door on the other side of the car and opened it, making sure to hold the umbrella over the door so that the person inside wouldn't get wet upon stepping out. Vivienne Westing gently slid her legs so that her feet could step on to the ground outside the car. She pushed hard down on her high heels and stood up out of the passenger seat to stand under the umbrella. The sound of cameras clicking and flashing was almost more deafening than the sound of the rain hitting the pavement. There weren't many photographers here but there were a few. After all, her family had come to be known and people would obviously be curious about who would be attending as well as the speaker.
She wore a black dress with long sleeves and fit her body snugly. A single string of pearls adorned her neck and she had pinned her hair back into a bun. Head bowed, she begun to ascend the stone steps leading up to the church. The driver followed behind her making sure to keep the umbrella over her at all times. Her heels clicked on the wet steps until she came to a pair of large wooden doors. Vivienne placed her hands on the handles to the door and stood for a moment, staring at the doors before letting out a large sigh. She pushed the doors open and entered the packed church. Many people all dressed in black were standing, talking to each other and looking around solemnly. Upon hearing the doors to the church open, things began to quiet down as the last heir of the Westing family made her way to the front of the church. The sudden decrease in noise had everyone slowly end their conversations and turn to watch. Soon the only noise in the church were soft whispers and the sounds of her heels hitting the floor.
Vivienne kept her head bowed and her hands folded neatly in front of her as she walked. She made no nods to anyone or acknowledged that she wasn't the only person in the church at all. Her hands began to shake gently as she approached the front. She had no desire to speak to anyone at all or even give this speech but it was her duty and there were about to be a lot more uncomfortable situations she would find herself in.
When she finally reached the front she climbed the few stairs to the stage area where a large, ornate casket had been placed. A large bouquet had been placed on top, with roses and other flowers and foliage bursting from it. Vivienne quietly stood in front of the casket with her head down for some time. Eventually she placed a slender hand on the top of the casket for a few minutes. The church was deadly quiet now so much so that if a pin were to drop, one would hear it. After a few moments of silent gratitude to the man in the casket, Vivienne turned and walked to the podium. She steadied her hands on the sides of it and for the first time gazed upon the crowd of people in the church. She waved her hand up and the crowd began to sit and shuffle into place.
"My uncle, though not my father, was the closest thing in this world that I had to a father." Vivienne's voice commanded the room and echoed off the tall stone ceilings. "A generous man in both his business and his personal life. The list of his accolades and accomplishments is great but if you were to ask him, he would always say that his greatest accomplishment in life was his family." Vivienne continued with her speech for several minutes, elegantly and composed. When she had finished, she pulled away from the podium, her hands shaking more now. She again folded them together in front of her as she walked out of the church. She didn't stop to speak to anyone or accept the many 'I'm so sorry for your loss.' Comments that would've occurred if she had stopped. She wouldn't be able to bare it.
Vivienne returned to the black car quietly with no words uttered between herself and her driver. He knew that now was not the time for conversation and allowed her to ride in peace. The car pulled away from the busy city street and headed out to the suburbs. Vivienne didn't touch her phone for the entire ride back to the estate. She only looked out the windows to watch the world passing her by. At moments it felt like the world was spinning and others it felt like time had stopped. Grief was a funny thing but it was a thing she had grown accustomed to. Her mother had died when she was ten which was how her uncle had come to take her in. Her father had died before she was even born. This grief was different. It was close to how she felt as a child when her mother passed but almost more. She was alone now.
Her uncle had married only once but she had died and never had any children. When Vivienne's mother died, her uncle had no issue in taking her in. He loved her as his own and it was lonely in a large estate with no one to share it. Vivienne had always been close with her uncle. He doted on her as he had no children and she had always loved him as the only man in her life that filled the void of not having a father. He was her mother's only sibling and seeing as she was an only child, she was the last living heir to their family name â and it's fortune.
Her uncle's death was a sudden one but he was a very thoughtful and organized man. Things had been arranged long before his death and he frequently revised his will and terms so that if anything were to ever happen, it wouldn't be stressful or confusing for Vivienne. A large sum of his fortune had been gifted to charities and research developments for issues that he was passionate about. He also ensured that all of the companies he had acquired, stocks, real estate, and any tangible asset went to Vivienne. He had left a few things to dear friends but seeing as Vivienne was his only living family member, almost everything would now belong to her.
Marcus had been a brilliant man. Extremely intelligent and charismatic to boot. He had graduated from college with several degrees and doctorates. Early on in his life he had been set up with assets from his father which only grew in value. Marcus had been quick to learn and soon had surpassed even his father's original fortune on what he had made himself. After leaving college he had worked in a few pharmaceutical companies before beginning his own. Between his reputation and his personal connections the company took off quickly. He had pulled many of the top scientists and people in the field to bring to his company. It became well known and they had many successes early on.
Marcus had become well known in the higher echelon of society. He came from one of the wealthiest families in America and was popular due to his wit and humor. He always attended parties and events, making friends anywhere he went. He was famous among high society and the general public had begun to take notice as well which brought more opportunities for Marcus. Some people probably would've hated the new found fame and attention but Marcus always saw everything as an opportunity. You never know who you would meet and who would become useful later on. He had always been lucky in that he didn't ever really get any negative press or attention. Naturally interest drew to Vivienne when her mother passed and Marcus adopted her. The story at the time had been largely circulated and had captivated people that knew Marcus and so many of those that didn't. The charismatic, widowed billionaire taking in his niece after a tragic and sudden death was the gossip everyone wanted to hear about.
Many people had chased him down hoping to keep him for themselves but after the death of his wife he wasn't interested in any of it. He became quite the recluse from society after that point and focused instead on his work and Vivienne and her mother. Though he rarely made any public appearances after that, whenever he was seen out, it was quickly spread around. Pictures snapped, gossip blogs writing about Marcus sightings as if he were some rare animal in the wild. Marcus shielded Vivienne from much of the press and attention but when she became a teenager it became difficult. It worsened when she was in her early adult years and going out and about all the time. Parties, night clubs, exclusive dinners and events. Vivienne took it all in stride and hardly minded the attention. She wasn't one to read gossip blogs or magazines, never really was interested in celebrity news. To her she would never google her name or that of her family. She simply had many other interests that didn't include indulging in the news of what other people were doing.
The car stopped in front of a large iron and stone gate with a security guard station. A man inside pressed a button and the gates slowly rolled open so that the car could go through. Her uncle's estate was lavish and huge. It had been in the Westing family for over a hundred years. It had only been a few years ago that her Uncle had renovated most of it while keeping much of it the same. It was a building that by any other words looked like a castle. Large, stone, many statues and gardens surrounding the property. A gigantic water fountain surrounded by flowers sat in front of the entrance to the home with a drive way that surrounded it for cars to pull around. The house was lit up in the dark rainy weather. It was raining harder here than it was in the city. After stopping directly in front of the steps leading into the home, the driver once again took out the umbrella and opened the door for Vivienne.
"Thank you." Vivienne said to the driver without looking his way as she exited the vehicle and ascended the stairs to enter the home. An older man in a black suit opened the door as the car had pulled up. He looked to be in his sixties with black hair that had begun to gray. He stood at the entry way with the doors open for Vivienne. "Oliver." She greeted the man, her eyes meeting his. "Welcome back, Miss Westing." Oliver had been her uncle's butler but anyone with a brain cell knew he did so much more than just manage the home for the man. He was a jack of all trades, intelligent, well versed in nearly every subject imaginable, organized, and virtually any redeeming quality one would want in the person serving them. To Vivienne he had always been somewhat of a walking encyclopedia. There were few questions he couldn't answer and if he didn't know he would always find out within minutes for her.
Oliver was a quiet and humble man. He had been serving her uncle since the time that he left school. He had been appointed to the home early on when Vivienne's mother and uncle lived in the estate with their parents and stayed ever since. Oliver handled many things for the elder Westing in the time he had spent in the estate. Anything from scheduling and booking appointments to precuring difficult or hard to find items sometimes from across the world. Any wish or desire that Marcus had Oliver was able to fulfill. Marcus had seen him more as an advisor and definitely treated him as such. Very few large decisions Marcus made were done without Oliver's advice and input. He relied heavily on the man and within good reason.
Vivienne knew she didn't have much time before the crowd from the church would arrive. Not all of them had been invited but enough of an amount that it was going to be an exhausting evening on top of an already emotionally exhausting day. She wasn't looking forward to being responsible for entertaining guests and being the emotional dumping ground. People that were grieving the loss of her uncle would undoubtedly want to talk to her, pay their respects, and get their own feelings off their chest so they could rest easier at night without thinking about how many times she would have to do this before the night was over. It happened with her mother and now that her uncle had passed she already knew what she was in for. It didn't help that she was usually social and welcoming towards most everyone. In this one event she was wishing she wasn't so approachable. She wanted to disappear and melt away, not be kept hostage. She understood however that this was her responsibility now. She had to protect the Westing name and do her best to keep the purity of their image. Many people would be expecting a certain behavior from her and it would be a terrible homage to her uncle and mother if she sullied that in their deaths.
Vivienne didn't get very far inside before Oliver addressed her again. "Miss Westing, you have visitors in the tea room."