Chapter 8 - Sienna's Ultimatum
The next morning, Clare’s doorbell rang.
She looked through the peephole.
It was a young woman in a designer coat, holding a Prada bag.
Sienna Blake.
Clare opened the door, her face an unreadable mask.
“Can I help you?”
Sienna pushed past her into the apartment.
“He isn't answering my calls. What did you say to him?”
“I didn't have to say anything,” Clare said, closing the door. “He realized you were a mistake.”
Sienna laughed. It was a harsh, brittle sound.
“I'm not a mistake, honey. I’m his exit strategy.”
Clare crossed her arms over her pregnant belly.
“Exit strategy?”
“You think he’s staying with you? He’s transferring the last of the corporate funds today.”
Sienna sneered.
“We are leaving for Zurich on Friday. He just needs to finalize the accounts.”
Clare felt a surge of panic.
Friday. That was two days away.
“He told you that?” Clare asked, feigning ignorance.
“He showed me the accounts. My name is on them.”
“If your name is on them, you’re an accomplice to corporate fraud.”
Sienna rolled her eyes.
“It’s his company. He can do what he wants with his money.”
“It’s not his company,” Clare said quietly.
Sienna stopped pacing.
“What?”
“Harrison doesn't own Mercer Holdings. And when the police find out, you’ll be going to prison right beside him.”
Sienna’s confidence wavered for a fraction of a second.
“You’re lying. You’re just a jealous, pregnant housewife.”
“Ask him about Eleanor Parker.”
Sienna stared at her.
“Who the hell is Eleanor Parker?”
“Ask him,” Clare repeated. “And then ask yourself if you really want to board that plane.”
Clare walked to the door and held it open.
Sienna stormed out, her heels clicking aggressively against the hardwood floor.
May you like
Clare locked the door and leaned against it, breathing heavily.
She had just accelerated the timeline.
