Chapter 14 - No More Contracts
Claire hit the floor as glass rained across the foyer.
Thomas shouted from upstairs.
Security returned fire through the broken entrance.
A man rushed the hallway.
Claire grabbed the heavy brass lamp beside the sofa and swung with both hands. The base struck his wrist. His gun skidded across the floor.
She kicked it under a cabinet.
“I am so tired of men breaking into my houses,” she said through clenched teeth.
Ethan arrived with police less than four minutes later.
Malcolm was not among the attackers.
But his car had been captured on a traffic camera two blocks away.
One arrested gunman agreed to talk.
Malcolm had been working with Grant Holloway for months.
The plan was simple: discredit Claire, seize legal control of Amelia, force Ethan out of Vale Group, then divide the companies they controlled.
Claire sat on the townhouse steps while paramedics checked a cut on her forehead.
Ethan crouched in front of her.
“You could have been killed.”
“So could you.”
“That’s different.”
She stared at him. “Why?”
He opened his mouth and stopped.
Claire’s anger suddenly vanished.
“Say it.”
“This was supposed to be six months.”
“Say it anyway.”
Ethan looked at her like the truth offended him.
“I love you.”
Claire forgot the sirens, the broken door, the blood on her sleeve.
He continued before she could answer.
“I don’t want the trust. I don’t care about the board. I don’t care if our marriage is useful to every dead billionaire in Massachusetts. I want you when there is no contract left.”
Claire swallowed.
“You have terrible timing.”
“I’m aware.”
She kissed him first.
It was not elegant. Her lip was split. His jacket smelled like rain and gunpowder. Thomas shouted from the doorway, “About damn time,” and ruined whatever romance remained.
Claire laughed against Ethan’s mouth.
Then Nora called.
The independent DNA results had arrived.
All three laboratories confirmed Claire was Amelia Ashford’s biological daughter.
The trust activated immediately.
Claire now controlled forty-eight percent of Ashford Pharmaceutical.
But there was a second result.
Nora’s voice tightened.
“The preserved tissue Victor submitted wasn’t Amelia’s.”
Claire’s stomach dropped.
“Whose was it?”
“Vanessa Holloway’s.”
Claire stared at Ethan.
May you like
Nora continued.
“And Vanessa is genetically related to the Ashford family.”
