Chapter 4 - The PR Machine
By noon, the hospital room felt like a fortress. Two large men in dark suits stood outside my door. Adrian's security. My phone had been buzzing relentlessly since 8:00 a.m. Missed calls from Grant. Missed calls from his PR team. Text messages demanding I release a statement confirming Grant was present at the birth.
"He's spinning a narrative," I said, staring at a notification from a local news outlet. The headline read: Mercer CEO Welcomes Twins Amidst High-Stakes Riverfront Bid. Adrian scoffed, handing me a cup of warm tea. "Let him spin. The higher he climbs, the harder the pavement feels when he hits it."
I took a sip of the tea. It tasted like heaven after thirty-six hours of nothing. "Adrian, if he forged my signature on those corporate documents, how do I prove it wasn't me? He has teams of lawyers. He has judges in his pocket." "He had judges in his pocket," Adrian corrected, sitting back down. "For the last three months, my forensic accountants have been tracing the metadata on those digital signatures. We can prove exactly which IP address they originated from. And spoiler alert: it was his private office, on days when you were verifiably out of the state."
I stared at him. "You've been building a case against him for months?" "I've been building a guillotine." He said it so casually, like we were discussing the weather. "And Savannah?" I asked. The name still tasted bitter on my tongue. Not because I wanted Grant back. But because of the sheer disrespect of my own bed. "Savannah Reed," Adrian mused. "Vice President of Acquisitions at Mercer Development. She's not just his mistress, Claire. She's his co-conspirator. She moved the money."
A knock on the door interrupted us. Dr. Hall walked in, followed by a nurse pushing a double bassinet. "Look who's cleared to stay with Mom," she beamed. All thoughts of Grant, fraud, and revenge vanished. I reached out as the nurse carefully placed the two tiny bundles into my arms. One on my left. One on my right. They were sleeping. Tiny fists clenched. Perfect little breathing rhythms. "Have you picked names yet?" Dr. Hall asked.
I looked down at them. For months, Grant had insisted on naming the boy 'Grant Jr.' and the girl 'Victoria', after his mother. I looked up at Adrian. He was watching me, his eyes soft, completely stripped of the ruthlessness he reserved for the world. "Leo," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "And Maya." Dr. Hall smiled. "Leo and Maya. Beautiful."
After the doctor left, Adrian stepped closer to the bassinet. He looked massive standing over it, a titan of industry reduced to silence by five pounds of humanity. He reached out one long, elegant finger. Leo instinctively wrapped his tiny hand around it. Adrian froze. A complicated emotion flashed across his face. A vulnerability I had never seen in him. "They're going to need a safe place to go when you leave here," he said softly, not breaking his gaze with the baby. "My estate in Highland Park is secure. Gated. Private security. I want you to come there."
May you like
I hesitated. "Adrian, I can't impose like that. You've done too much already." He finally looked at me. "Claire, tomorrow morning, I am dropping a file on the desk of the US Attorney. By tomorrow afternoon, the FBI will be raiding Mercer Development. The press will descend like vultures. Grant will realize what happened, and he will realize I did it. And he knows I am sitting in this room with you." He leaned down, his face inches from mine. "You are not an imposition. You are the only thing in this city I actually care about protecting. Let me protect you."
I looked into his grey eyes. There was no deceit there. No calculation. Only absolute certainty. I nodded. "Okay. Highland Park it is."
