Gold digger's reward

The guard at the gate frowned, but tipped his hat and the front gate slid back. 

Blaine nodded at him, not taking offense as he sped up the hill to the minister’s mansion.

If Ariel was really here, the guard must be wondering why they were having so many guests by this time of the night. 

As he drove closer to the mansion, he recognized Ariel’s car, parked at the end of the driveway.

“Where is your boss?” He asked, hurrying out of his car with the engine still running. All the men standing nearby; guards, assistants, chauffeurs, turned back to look at him in surprise.

“Chairman Tucker.” Ariel’s chauffeur stepped forward and bowed. It gave Blaine momentary satisfaction to still be so addressed even after that position had been stolen from him.

He was chairman of nothing now, and he had stupidly shown up here to save the woman who was responsible for that loss. The woman who had stolen what his family had protected jealousy for generations.

“Where is Ariel?” He turned fully to the chauffeur, his eyes furious. 

He kept reminding himself that he was doing this for his son who he believed was still alive. This was all for his son.

“The chairwoman is with the minister’s wife..”

“How long?” Blaine cut him off.

“Sir?” The man said in confusion.

Blaine shouldered past him. He just had to confirm that she was fine, and then he would get the hell out of here. 

He hurried the housekeeper out of the pleasantries, who stopped, and then hurriedly directed him to the lounge where the minister was waiting.

The minister did not even bother to hide his displeasure at seeing Blaine. 

But Blaine did not blame him. What Ophelia had done to their daughter was abominable. But he did not want to think about Ophelia now.

“What do you want with Mrs Sullivan?” The minister said, standing tall like Ariel was suddenly his daughter, and it was his duty to protect her.

“I think she is in trouble. She called me asking for help.”

“You must have heard wrong. Mrs Sullivan cannot be in trouble in my house.” 

Blaine wondered if he should just leave, because this was tiresome. “Can I see her? Then I will leave.”

“You would go into my own wife’s bedroom?” The minister flared up. “What do you mean Tucker?”

Blaine held his composure, tightened his hands into a fist, and bowed.  

He hated that he had to go to this length, but he was ready to grovel before this man to make sure Ariel was safe. Because if she was, then it meant his son was safe too.

He sighed inwardly in self-pity. All this for a son he had no evidence he was alive.

So far he had seen little to no real evidence to prove Ariel’s claims that he was dead, wrong. But still, he believed his son must be alive. 

Why else would she return after disappearing for over one year?

“I didn't mean to offend. If you can have someone check, perhaps your wife’s maid.” He finally straightened from his bow, and looked up at the minister.

The man gave him a long look, then gestured for him to take a seat as he turned to ring a summoning bell.

The housekeeper appeared immediately, like she had been waiting for the summon. “Check on Madame, and get some tea for Chairman Tucker.”

Blain kept his expression blank, although having a second person call him chairman almost made him laugh now. 

It seemed it would take a while before everyone got used to Mõshon having just one chairman, no matter what the gold digger and that sly devil did.

And they would not even have time to get used to this new order, because he was going to take things back to how they were. 

At the very least, Mõshon would be a 50/50 company again. And if he worked a little harder, he might claim the whole thing and kick the Sullivans out.

He was still sitting with the thoughts, waiting, when a sudden scream sliced through the mansion. 

He was up before he even realized it, running past all the assistants and guards who had suddenly materialized.

He stopped in front of a bedroom where the whole traffic seemed to have been heading, hesitating a little outside. 

He could not just barge into a woman’s bedroom. 

The housekeeper ran past him, and when she pushed the bedroom door wide open, he saw Ariel on the floor. 

At that moment she did not look like the greedy gold digger, or the dark-hearted witch who wanted to run all the Tuckers out of Mõshon.

She looked young. Like the scared young woman he had stood up against his friends for. The one who had always asked how he was doing, not in the professional waitstaff way, but like she was truly concerned.

The one who had listened to him speak those three nights with bright eyes, and only interrupted when she had a question.

He ran into the bedroom, damning propriety to hell, and picked her off the floor into his arms. 

The ambulance would not get here quickly enough, and he had wasted enough time already since the time she called him.

At the back of his mind, he knew the minister’s wife needed help too. But she had an army of guards and a husband. 

Every man could take care of his own. 

Ariel’s chauffeur saw him coming and ran to Blaine’s car to open the back door, as her guards began to radio for help.

He wondered where that Sullivan was. How irresponsible!

Why marry a woman when he can not take care of her?

He jumped into the driver’s seat and began to drive like a madman to the nearest hospital.

What the hell happened there? What happened to both women that knocked them unconscious?

He glanced at the tiny woman sprawled in his backseat, through the rearview mirror.

He noticed she seemed to be getting paler, her skin taking on a more ashen look, like she was dying. 

He panicked and stepped on the accelerator, cursing at all the drivers who were a second too slow to get out of his way.

At the hospital, it seemed everyone was waiting for him. Stretchers, doctors, nurses, gas masks. 

The whole entrance abuzz with activity as the Minister’s convoy sped in closely behind him, and guards transferred the minister's wife to a stretcher.

“What do you think is wrong with her?” Blaine asked anxiously as he ran beside the stretcher that pushed Ariel into the hospital. “Why is her body getting cold?”

“Please let us attend to your wife, chairman.” A nurse said, and softly pushed him off as the medical team pushed Ariel past a pair of glass doors into the ER.