Chapter 7 - WHEN VINCENT FINALLY LOST CONTROL
Vincent survived the shooting.
But his empire did not.
Within weeks, Hale Global began collapsing.
Banks demanded repayment.
Partners withdrew.
News outlets published stories about financial irregularities.
The board voted to suspend Vincent.
Claire became acting chair.
For the first time, Vincent had nothing.
No company.
No authority.
No wife.
And no Sloane.
He came to Claire's office one rainy evening.
She allowed him inside.
He looked older.
“I deserve this.”
Claire said nothing.
“I thought I could control everything.”
“You couldn't.”
“I know.”
He sat.
“I loved you.”
Claire looked at him.
“Why didn't you say that before?”
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Becoming like my father.”
Claire's expression softened slightly.
Vincent continued.
“My father believed love was weakness. He taught me that power mattered more than loyalty.”
“And you believed him.”
“Yes.”
Claire looked away.
“Then why did you betray me?”
“I thought I could fix everything before you found out.”
“You lied.”
“Yes.”
“You used my name.”
“Yes.”
“You nearly destroyed my father's legacy.”
Vincent lowered his head.
“Yes.”
Claire walked to the window.
“Do you regret losing me?”
Vincent looked at her.
“Every day.”
Claire turned.
“Regret isn't enough.”
“I know.”
Silence.
Then Vincent stood.
“There is something you need to know.”
Claire waited.
“Sloane wasn't working alone.”
“Who was behind her?”
Vincent hesitated.
“My mother.”
Claire froze.
“Eleanor?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She wanted control of the trust.”
Claire understood.
Eleanor had known about the assets.
She had known about Jonathan.
And she had used Vincent.
Vincent handed Claire an envelope.
“My mother gave this to me years ago.”
Claire opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Her father.
Eleanor.
And another man.
Claire recognized him.
Marcus Vane.
The man who had appeared outside her house.
On the back of the photograph, Jonathan had written:
The three people who know where the money is buried.
Claire looked at Vincent.
“Where is your mother?”
“Gone.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
A phone rang.
Nicholas answered from the doorway.
He listened.
Then looked at Claire.
“Eleanor has been found.”
“Where?”
“New York.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Then we go.”
They found Eleanor in a private apartment overlooking Central Park.
She was sitting beside the window.
She looked tired.
Older.
“You came.”
Claire entered.
“You knew.”
Eleanor smiled sadly.
“I knew your father was hiding something.”
“You helped Black Harbor.”
“I helped myself.”
“You destroyed my marriage.”
“No.”
Eleanor looked directly at her.
“Vincent destroyed your marriage.”
Claire didn't answer.
Eleanor continued.
“But I did something worse.”
“What?”
“I helped your father disappear.”
Claire froze.
“What?”
“Jonathan wasn't killed.”
The room became silent.
Claire's heart stopped.
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“His car crashed.”
“A staged crash.”
“Then where is he?”
Eleanor looked at Nicholas.
He seemed equally shocked.
“I don't know.”
Claire stepped closer.
“You expect me to believe my father has been alive for eleven years?”
“He was hiding.”
“From whom?”
“Black Harbor.”
Claire's voice broke.
“Why didn't he come home?”
“Because he believed they would kill you.”
Claire's eyes filled.
“My whole life…”
Eleanor nodded.
“Your father watched from a distance.”
Claire turned away.
She couldn't breathe.
Then Eleanor said something that changed everything.
“Claire, your father didn't leave you only the trust.”
“What else?”
Eleanor pointed toward Nicholas.
“He left you the man who saved his life.”
Claire looked at Nicholas.
Nicholas said nothing.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“We found your father.”
Her heart stopped.
“Where?”
May you like
Nicholas looked at her.
“Europe.”
