Chapter 7 - Once the Baby Comes
I watched the clip three times.
Each time, the words looked the same.
Once the baby comes, she’s trapped.
Ryan stared at the floor.
“Say something,” I told him.
He looked up. “It was out of context.”
“What context makes that sentence normal?”
Grant scoffed. “He meant financially. You were talking about divorce.”
“I was not.”
“You were thinking about it.”
I almost smiled. “Interesting. Did you forge my thoughts too?”
Martin kept working at the console. “There are more clips.”
We opened another.
Ryan alone in my study, photographing pages from my estate binder.
Another: Grant using my desk computer.
Another: Brooke carrying a stack of documents into the dining room.
Another: Diane arguing with Grant near the fireplace.
That one had audio.
Diane’s voice came through clearly.
“I’m not doing this. Claire has been good to us.”
Grant replied, “Then enjoy being poor.”
Diane covered her mouth.
Grant lunged toward the console. “Turn that off.”
The security officer stopped him.
I looked at Diane. “How long have you known?”
Tears filled her eyes. “Not everything.”
“How long?”
“Since Thanksgiving.”
My chest tightened.
Thanksgiving.
The night Diane hugged me in the kitchen and told me I was the daughter she never had.
“What did you know?”
She swallowed. “Grant’s development company was failing. He owed private lenders. Ryan said you had enough assets to help and that you were being selfish.”
“So you helped them?”
“I begged them to stop.”
“Did you tell me?”
Her silence answered.
I nodded slowly. “Then you helped.”
She started to cry.
Ryan’s voice sharpened. “Can everybody stop acting like Claire is some innocent saint? She controls everything with money.”
I turned to him.
He finally said what he had wanted to say for years.
“You make more than me. You own the house. Your name is on the company. Your lawyer calls you first. Your staff listens to you. Do you know what that does to a husband?”
“Yes,” I said. “It reveals him.”
His face changed.
Martin’s tablet chimed.
He looked down.
Then at me.
“Claire, someone just tried to transfer your shares in Mercer Design Group.”
Ryan’s head snapped up.
Martin turned the screen toward us.
The request had been submitted seven minutes earlier.
May you like
From inside the penthouse.
The House He Thought Was His
