Chapter 7 - THE TRUST
The explosion threw everyone to the floor.
Dust filled the basement.
Claire couldn't see Owen.
She heard gunfire.
Men shouting.
Glass breaking.
Then someone grabbed her arm.
She screamed.
“Claire!”
Owen.
He pulled her behind a concrete support.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
Thomas crawled toward them.
“Harrison is gone.”
Owen looked toward the smoke.
“Of course he is.”
Claire stared at him.
“You knew.”
Owen looked at her.
“Knew what?”
“That my grandfather wanted us together.”
“No.”
“Harrison said—”
“Harrison lies.”
Claire's voice rose.
“Then tell me the truth!”
Owen stared at her.
“The truth is that your grandfather asked me to protect you.”
“Why?”
“Because he knew Harrison would come after you.”
“That's it?”
Owen hesitated.
“No.”
Claire waited.
“Your grandfather also believed you would eventually inherit everything.”
She looked down at the ledger.
“How much?”
“I don't know.”
“Billions?”
Owen nodded.
Claire laughed bitterly.
“I spent nine months cleaning your mansion.”
Owen's expression softened.
“You didn't need the money.”
“You didn't tell me.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
Claire looked at Thomas.
“And you?”
Thomas lowered his eyes.
“I was trying to keep Robert's promise.”
“What promise?”
“To make sure you never discovered who you were until it was safe.”
Claire looked at the ledger.
“And now?”
“Now it's too late.”
A phone rang.
Owen answered.
His security chief spoke rapidly.
Owen's face changed.
“What?”
Pause.
“Say that again.”
Claire watched him.
“What happened?”
Owen hung up.
“Harrison took someone.”
“Who?”
“Your mother.”
Claire froze.
“My mother is alive?”
Owen nodded.
Claire's world shifted again.
She had been told her mother had died five years earlier.
“She isn't dead?”
“No.”
Claire felt tears burning her eyes.
“Where is she?”
“We don't know.”
Then a video appeared on Owen's phone.
Her mother sat in a chair.
Older.
Exhausted.
Alive.
Harrison stood behind her.
“Claire,” her mother whispered.
Claire grabbed the phone.
“Mom?”
Her mother's eyes filled with tears.
“I'm sorry.”
Claire could barely speak.
“What did you do?”
“I thought I was protecting you.”
“You sold the trust.”
Her mother closed her eyes.
“I had no choice.”
“You sold everything.”
“I didn't know.”
Harrison leaned into the frame.
“She knew enough.”
Claire glared at him.
“What do you want?”
“The ledger.”
“You already have copies.”
“I want the original.”
“Why?”
“Because the original has the final name.”
Claire's stomach tightened.
“What name?”
Harrison smiled.
“You'll see.”
The video ended.
Owen took the phone.
Claire looked at him.
“We're getting her.”
“Yes.”
“Tonight.”
“Yes.”
Thomas stood.
“I know where Harrison is.”
Owen turned.
“Where?”
Thomas looked at Claire.
“Your mother's old house.”
Claire frowned.
“The one in Bellevue?”
Thomas nodded.
“Harrison bought it.”
Owen immediately began issuing orders.
Within twenty minutes, a convoy left the estate.
Claire sat in Owen's vehicle.
For the first time, she wasn't thinking about money.
She wasn't thinking about the Mafia.
She was thinking about her mother.
When they arrived, the house looked abandoned.
Owen's men surrounded it.
Claire stepped out.
“I'm going inside.”
Owen grabbed her hand.
“No.”
“My mother is in there.”
“So are traps.”
“I don't care.”
“I do.”
Their eyes met.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Claire whispered:
“Why?”
Owen's jaw tightened.
“Because I've spent twenty-two years trying to keep your family alive.”
Claire stared.
“What does that mean?”
Owen looked away.
“Your grandfather wasn't the only person who died that night.”
Claire froze.
“Who else?”
Owen didn't answer.
Thomas did.
“Your father.”
Claire's breath caught.
“My father?”
Thomas nodded.
“He was there.”
“Was he killed too?”
“No.”
Thomas's voice dropped.
“He disappeared.”
Claire stared.
“You mean…”
“Yes.”
Thomas looked toward the house.
“Your father is alive.”
Before Claire could respond, every light in the house turned on.
The front door opened.
A man stepped outside.
Claire had never seen him before.
But she knew his face.
Because her grandfather had kept his photograph beside her childhood bed.
Her father.
Robert Bennett Jr.
Claire whispered:
“Dad?”
The man looked at her.
May you like
And said:
“Claire, don't trust Owen.”
