Chapter 7
“You knew her?”
“I did.”
The answer came too quickly to be false.
I searched his face for some sign of manipulation.
Instead, I found sadness.
Real sadness.
“How old were you?” I asked.
“Twenty-six when I met her. Thirty when she disappeared from my life.”
“Disappeared?”
He seemed to regret the word.
“When she resigned.”
I pressed the necklace to my chest.
“Why would nobody ever tell me this?”
“I hoped you could tell me.”
A gust of wind swept across the plaza.
My knees weakened.
Alexander reached out, then stopped before touching me.
“Clara.”
“I’m okay.”
I wasn’t.
My mother had worked for Vanguard Global.
Alexander Vance had known her.
Richard had somehow acquired her private papers.
And nobody had thought I deserved to know any of it.
A tightening began low in my abdomen.
I froze.
Not pain exactly.
Pressure.
Then another.
My hand flew to my stomach.
Alexander saw it.
“That’s enough.”
This time I didn’t argue.
Chapter 2: The key and the hidden trust
The hospital smelled of disinfectant and warm cotton blankets.
By the time a nurse helped me into a dry gown, my trembling had mostly stopped.
The contractions, thankfully, had been Braxton Hicks brought on by stress and dehydration. The baby’s heartbeat was strong. My blood pressure was slightly elevated but not dangerous.
The doctor recommended rest.
I almost laughed.
Rest.
It sounded like something available to people with homes.
When the doctor left, I lay back against the raised hospital bed and stared at the ceiling.
My mother’s necklace rested in a clear belongings bag on the table.
Someone had cleaned it with a soft cloth.
I suspected Alexander.
He waited outside throughout the examination.
Never once tried to enter.
Never asked the doctor for information.
Never behaved as if access to me was something money could buy.
That should have reassured me.
Instead, it made me more curious.
A soft knock sounded.
“Come in.”
Alexander entered carrying two paper cups.
“No coffee,” he said. “Herbal tea. The nurse approved it.”
I accepted the cup.
“Do billionaires usually ask nurses for beverage permission?”
“Only when they’re frightened of pregnant women.”
Despite everything, I smiled.
It surprised us both.
He took the chair beside the window.
Without the overcoat and without his security team surrounding him, he looked older than he had outside.
Mid-sixties, perhaps.
Silver touched his dark hair.
The cane rested against his leg.