Chapter 3 - The Arrest and the Aftermath
The private terminal at Teterboro Airport had become a fortress of flashing red and blue lights. The sleek black SUVs that Grant had arranged to ensure privacy were now blocked by federal vehicles. Through the oval windows of the jet, Claire watched them push Grant into the back of a sedan. He was forced to duck his head to avoid hitting the door frame. It was a small, humiliating gesture, but it finalized the shift in power.
Sloane was placed in a separate vehicle. She was sobbing audibly, the sound carrying up the metal stairs.
Inside the cabin, the heavy silence returned, broken only by the hum of the auxiliary power and the sleet hitting the fuselage.
Julian turned to Claire. His cold, imposing demeanor melted away, replaced instantly by profound concern. “Claire,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Are you sure you’re alright? I saw the feed from the hotel. When she grabbed you…”
Claire leaned against him, finally letting the adrenaline crash. Her knees shook. “I’m okay, Jules. The baby is okay.”
Another tight pressure wrapped around her ribs, sharper this time. She gasped softly, gripping Julian’s sleeve.
Julian’s face went pale. “Is it…?”
“Braxton Hicks, I think,” Claire breathed out, closing her eyes. “But we should probably get to a doctor.”
Julian didn't hesitate. He barked an order to his private security team waiting at the base of the stairs. “Bring the car around to the steps. Now!”
He carefully guided Claire down the stairs, shielding her from the rain with his heavy overcoat. The cold air felt clean and sharp, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere inside Grant’s jet.
They settled into the back of Julian’s armored Maybach. The heater was already blasting. Julian handed her a bottle of water and a warm blanket.
“I have my personal physician waiting at Mount Sinai,” Julian said as the car sped away from the airport, leaving the flashing lights behind. “We’re taking no chances.”
Claire nodded, taking a slow sip of water. “Did they secure the servers?”
“Every single one,” Julian confirmed. “My team mirrored the servers simultaneously. The FBI has the raw data. We have the backups. Grant can’t delete a single comma.”
Claire closed her eyes, letting the exhaustion wash over her. For months, she had lived in a state of hyper-vigilance. She had slept with one eye open, parsing through every document Grant handed her, decoding his sudden meetings with Sloane, tracing the subtle shifts in corporate structure designed to push her out. She had endured the gaslighting, the quiet remarks about her "hormonal instability," the sympathetic smiles from board members who believed Grant’s lies.
“He really thought I was stupid,” Claire whispered to the dark window.
Julian squeezed her hand. “He didn't think you were stupid, Claire. He thought you were trapped. Men like Grant rely on women prioritizing the peace of their family over the truth. He thought you’d sign away the company just to keep your child safe.”
Claire opened her eyes. They were fierce and dry. “He forgot who raised us.”
Julian smiled, a genuine, warm smile. They had grown up in a chaotic household, learning early on that trust was earned, not freely given. When their parents passed away, Julian had built a tech empire from nothing, and he had funded Claire’s brilliant foray into biotechnology. They were Whitmores. They did not break.
At the hospital, Claire was rushed through a private entrance. A team of obstetricians monitored her for two hours. The baby’s heartbeat was strong and steady. The bruising on Claire’s arms from where Sloane had dragged her was documented by a forensic nurse—vital evidence for the assault charges.
Julian sat by her bed, answering emails on his phone, methodically dismantling Grant’s professional networks.
“Grant’s lawyers just filed for bail,” Julian noted without looking up from the screen.
“Will he get it?” Claire asked, resting her hand on her monitor-strapped belly.
“The flight risk is high. He was literally on a fueled jet bound for a country with complex extradition hurdles regarding corporate espionage. The judge denied it. He’s spending the weekend in federal holding.”
Claire let out a long breath. “What about the board?”
Julian looked up, his blue eyes gleaming with predatory anticipation. “An emergency meeting is scheduled for Monday morning at 9:00 AM. They think it’s to announce the merger with Helix North. They don't know Grant is in jail.”
“Good,” Claire said. She sat up slightly in the hospital bed, her mind already shifting from victim to CEO. “Have my legal team draft the termination notices for everyone on the executive committee who signed off on the Canadian distribution figures. And Julian?”
May you like
“Yes?”
“I need a new suit for Monday.”
