เข้าสู่ระบบI had never wanted to argue with a sixty-year-old woman more in my life. Yet somehow, Margot Sinclair was making it very difficult not to. The video call filled the screen mounted on the wall across from my hospital bed. Margot sat upright against her pillows, looking entirely too comfortable for someone who had just been told she was Hart Sullivan’s newest target. Beside her sat Professor Grant. Unlike his wife, he looked alarmed— as he should. Claire stood near the foot of my bed with her arms folded tightly across her chest. The detective assigned to Hart Sullivan’s case stood nearby. Nobody looked happy. Except Margot, who looked like she couldn’t have cared less. That was the problem. “I’ve already arranged additional security,” I said. My shoulder throbbed, my side ached— I ignored them. “There will be double the number of guards outside your room twenty-four hours a day.” Margot sighed dramatically. “You make it sound as though I’m under siege.”
I had never hated silence so much before. But silence was all I had now. Not the peaceful or comforting kind— this silence was suffocating. The kind that of silence that settled in a room after a disaster. The kind that came after everything started falling apart. I sat alone in my penthouse, staring at the television on the wall. Every channel was talking about the same thing: The lawsuit Lucian had filed against me. The press conference that had shaken the entire country. The endless stream of accusations he had thrown my way in front of the entire country. The television replayed everything; one clip after the another. It was endless, yet I couldn’t stop watching. I should have— God knew I should have. But I couldn’t. My fingers tightened around the remote as I watched the annoying reporter on the television screen. “Mr. Dhark, are you saying that the infertility diagnosis which circulated publicly almost a year ago belonged to Eva Sterling and no
I woke up to a tearing pain. It was more of a deep, burning ache spreading through my shoulder and chest, dragging me from darkness. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. Everything felt distant and muted. Then it hit me— that all-too-familiar antiseptic smell. The white ceiling above me, the steady beeping. Hospital. The realization came slowly. I shuddered. Then it all came back to me— The parking lot. The gunshot. The glass exploding. Claire. My eyes snapped open. I remembered the car driving past us, the flash from the window. My body moving before my brain could even think. Then the darkness. I immediately tried to sit up— that turned out to be a terrible decision. Pain exploded through my right shoulder. “Mr. Dhark.” A nurse appeared instantly. “Don’t.” “I need—” “You need to stay in bed.” She said firmly. “I need to know where Claire is.” The words came out rougher and harsher than intended. The nurse blinked. Before s
Lucian was standing one moment, then stumbling the next. His hand pressed against his side, bright red spreading between his fingers. I couldn’t breathe. The world seemed to narrow into a single horrifying image. Lucian. Bleeding. Because of me. “Lucian!” My voice came out so hoarse, I barely even recognized it. I was moving before I realized it— running toward Lucian. I reached him just as his knees threatened to give out. His eyes found mine immediately, still focused. Still alert and impossibly calm. “Claire.” He called, although his voice was painfully strained. But at least his was alive. My hands shook as I grabbed his arm. “Oh my God.” Blood. There was so much blood. I pressed my hand over his, trying to stop the building. Trying to do something— anything. Around us, chaos erupted. People scattered across the sidewalk. Someone was crying. Car alarms blared in the distance. Security guards shouted into radios. And through all of i
The drive back to the city started quietly. Neither Lucian nor I seemed particularly eager to fill the silence. The article about Eva losing KVEK was still on my phone. I reread parts of it while Lucian drove us back to Sinclair&co. Apparently, Eva was scrambling. Which was surprising for a woman who had believed herself untouchable. She was finally starting to discover what consequences looked like. Good. It was about time. Beside me, Lucian loosened his tie slightly, his attention still on the road. “You look pleased.” I glanced at him. “I’m not pleased.” His eyebrow lifted. “No?” “No.” A pause. “I’m relieved.” That was closer to the truth. Lucian nodded once. For a few moments neither of us spoke. Then he said quietly: “Eva always believed she was untouchable.” Something about the statement irritated me immediately. Maybe because it was true. Maybe because it wasn’t the whole truth. I turned toward him. “Of course she did.” Lucian g
The door closed softly behind me. For a moment, I just stood there. Dr. Ramon was no longer my problem. Not for the next few hours, at least. His lawyer had arrived less than a minute after I stepped outside. A detective escorted him down the corridor. His briefcase, suit and watch screamed luxury. That was the kind of attorney who billed by the hour and smiled while doing it. The lawyer disappeared into the room, the detective followed and the door shut. And just like that, the negotiation belonged to someone else. I rubbed my temple, feeling a headache already forming. No surprise there. I felt exhausted— not just physically, but mentally too. Every conversation seemed to carry the weight of someone’s future now. Eva. Hart. Ramon. Lucian. Margot. The lawsuit. The police investigation. The media circus. The pressure from Sinclair & Co. It never stopped. “Claire.” I looked up to see Lucian watching me. The detective who had been standing beside him had alre







