Do you mean you won't take the money?" Mrs. Gallagher raised an eyebrow, elegant as a coronet. "You're living in his apartment. Is there some sort of misunderstanding? Take this money, Claire. If you're set on seducing him, don't cry to me when the press is made aware of your mother's criminal record and your attempts to take Ryan down with you.".
As the woman walked away, rewarding herself with the coffee, Claire sensed the implied threat looming big.
Walking out, Claire carried the heavy, embarrassing bag of money. Money! She had been reduced to being openly bribed like a mistress.
With a burst of sudden, raw fury, Claire threw the money bag high in the air. Bills swirled every which way, fluttering down onto the busy street.
"Someone's throwing money!"
"Fast, take it! Don't let the rain get to it!"
While everyone scurried about, a face caught Claire's attention. "She is furious. She must be the ex-wife Adrian Blackwood left when he died in the Harrington Enterprises scandal. Her mother died, and now she's ruined!"
"Who cares? Take the money! She doesn't want it, but we do need it! A woman like her will always find more!"
Claire heard their disdain. In a month, she had moved from most envied heiress to scandalous homeless nobody-a newsman's warning.
The sidewalk became a frenzied free-for-all of clashing bodies. On the surprise rain shower, Claire saw a black sedan parked at the curb. Through the rain-streaked glass, she vaguely saw the chill, menacing face of Adrian Blackwood in the rear seat.
The car door creaked open. Adrian emerged, his driver standing over him with an umbrella for a canopy.
"You did this, didn't you?" Claire's reed-thin voice was laced with condemnation, though. How could Ryan's mother have been led to do this otherwise? Adrian had clearly used his power to expose her actions.
"Claire, I gave you a chance at peace." His tone was low, cutting through the rain. "You should not have searched for a substitute so quickly."
Claire felt a fleeting thrill of bitter satisfaction at the jealousy in his tone.
And then a cold, deep chill filled the space.
"I won't let anyone by the name of Harrington live in peace. You pay for your mother's lies that she printed. That's all."
"What more do you want?" she dared, chin set stubbornly, rain plastering her hair to her face. "My mother is dead! We are divorced! Adrian, leave me alone!"
"Eleanor killed my father and disgraced the name of my family, killing him. Now she's dead, and that's only one life." Adrian's hand snapped out, his fingers closing over her chin in a hard grip, his voice a low, deadly sentence.
Gazing up at his black, furious eyes, Claire at last understood. It wasn't divorce or alimony; it was blood. She still owed him a life.
"Then repay me in yours, if you wish," She shivered, rationality falling to desperation.
She tore brutally free of his hold and flung herself in the path of an oncoming automobile.
Adrian leapt to action immediately, too late. The stomach-twisting crunch of her body on metal was the only noise to be heard above the rain.
The car skidded to a halt. The driver screamed, staring at the woman, lying in an expanding pool of blood on the sidewalk.
Adrian shoved the man aside, ran to her, and scooped her bloody, unconscious form up into his arms. Visceral shock. He had never thought she would call his bluff.
"Miles (Tim), to the hospital! Now!"
(Adrian Blackwood's POV)
In the speeding car, Adrian hugged Claire, smelling rain and her blood. He felt her hard, icy fingers momentarily grip his suit jacket before releasing.
"Wake up, Claire! Don't sleep!" he commanded, his voice harsh.
He looked up, his face hardening to a stern mask. "Speed up!"
(Claire Harrington's POV)
Claire floated in and out of consciousness for what felt like hours. The agony was everywhere. She tried to sit up, clenching the IV on her hand, but a nurse rushed in and pinned her down.
"Ms. Harrington, you can't move! You've suffered serious trauma from the crash, and. you've lost the baby. You're very weak and need total rest."
Claire's face turned chalk-white. "A. miscarriage?
"Yes, Ms. Harrington. You didn't know? You were over a month pregnant. Too bad, but you must focus on your recovery. You're young; you'll have other chances." The nurse left, and Claire stood there with the ringing silence inside her head.
A child.
Their child.
The vicious, cruel evidence of that night at her mother's funeral. The product of their bitter, hateful last encounter. Adrian's revenge had not only stolen her mother's name and her own reputation but the life she did not even know she possessed.
Tears finally fell, silent and searing.
Her eyes fell on a tarnished, half-heart-shaped silver pendant on the bedside table. She vaguely remembered yanking it out of Adrian's jacket pocket as he carried her.
She took it in her hand. Her eyes widened. This was the identical pendant that she had lost years ago while saving a boy from an outraged media mob-a boy who grew up to become Adrian Blackwood.
He kept it? What does this mean?
(Claire Harrington and Felicity Monroe's POV)
The ward door creaked open. "Claire! You're a ghostly apparition!" Felicity Monroe stormed in, angry. She saw the pendant in Claire's hand and her face twisted up with rage.
She snatched it from her. "Why have you got this?"
"It fell off Adrian when he brought me in," Claire replied softly. "As his fiancée, you can have it back.".
"Of course, I will." Felicity smiled, taking the pendant. She slipped beneath her expensive blouse and pulled out an exact, duplicate half-heart pendant. "See? Adrian has one half, and I have the other. This is our symbol of love, Claire. You lost him years ago."
Claire stared at Felicity's pendant. "A symbol of love? When did you give it?"
"Twenty years ago!" Felicity fibbed readily, her eyes glinting with victory. "We had a tiny accident and I saved Adrian. We exchanged these pendants as an inside secret. I was the one who really saved him. You were simply his convenience affair that he married!"
"You lie!" Claire snapped back at her, her sneer frigid. She knew she was the one to have saved him.
Felicity's pretence of self-confidence was shattered, her eyes darting away. "Nonsense! What can you possibly know of our shared past? If it's a myth, why do I possess the complementary pendant?"
Claire said nothing. Was it possible she had made a mistake? A cold coincidence?
"You're just jealous of me!" Felicity growled, standing once more. "I am the rightful future Mrs. Blackwood. If you continue scheming for Adrian's love, I will bring the media down on you for good!"
The nurse opened the door then. "I told you this patient recently miscarried and needs silence! Out!"
The nurse slammed the door shut.
Felicity stood there in shock, trembling. She wagged a finger at Claire. "You. you were pregnant? It. it was Adrian's?"
Claire remained silent, leaving the truth suspended.
"You're disgusting! You were divorced, and yet you.".
"Felicity," Claire interrupted, her eyes snapping suddenly with perilous conviction. "Instead of lecturing me, go find your fiancé. My child is missing. The life I owed to Adrian has been paid. You and he can both leave me alone from now on."
A figure stood frozen in the hallway outside the ward. Adrian stood hidden in the shadow of the corridor. He had just emerged from the consultant.
The news was grim: Claire had been seriously injured. From the shock and the miscarriage, the doctor believed that she would have a formidable fight, never be able to, bear another child.
She can no longer have children.
He had meant to strip her of her status, her pride, her name. He hadn't meant to destroy her future.
A heavy, unbidden weight formed in Adrian's chest. He turned and left the hospital.
(Adrian Blackwood's POV)
Miles coughed in the vehicle. "Mr. Blackwood, I have paid all of Ms. Harrington's hospital and medical fees as you requested. I have arranged round-the-clock care with the nurses."
"Good," Adrian shot back, seeing Felicity exit the hospital face red with rage.
"Mr. Blackwood, that is Miss Monroe. Should I halt?" Miles asked.
"Not necessary." Adrian felt a searing burst of irritation. Felicity's melodramatic bluster during crisis was maddening.
Why in the world did I ever choose her instead of Claire's wild loveliness? he grimly wondered, involuntarily remembering: Because Felicity had rescued his life.
"To the company," he barked.
(Claire Harrington's POV)
For the following three days, Claire withdrew in silence, sometimes running her bony belly, mourning the brief, wasted life. Felicity and Adrian continued not to appear, leaving her a brittle peace.
A nurse entered. "Hello, Ms. Harrington. Mr. Gallagher is waiting to see you."
The memory of Ryan's mother's cold warning was still present. "I don't want to see him. Tell him to leave."
But Ryan was not to be dismissed. He pounded on the door. "Claire, I swear I didn't know my mother went to see you! I'm sorry! Open the door! Let's talk!" He had flown in from out-of-town Iron Cup competition, clutching a bouquet of roses nervously in his hand.
"Claire! I swear she won't pest you again!"
A nurse, drawn to the commotion, reminded him softly, "Sir, Ms. Harrington has miscarried. Be quieter, please."
"Miscarriage?!" Ryan outburst. "Shit!"
He threw the flowers on the reception desk. It was Adrian's baby. He spun around, ready to confront the CEO.
As he did, Adrian Blackwood stepped out of the elevator, Miles following behind him with a thermal lunchbox. Adrian had found himself unable to focus, a tumble of guilt and icy duty propelling him to steal her food.
"You scum! Adrian!" Ryan's face burned red with rage. He snapped forward, fist slamming into Adrian's jaw. "What you've done to her? Why won't you just leave her alone?"
The blinding pain on his lip enraged Adrian. Catching Ryan advancing towards him again, he raised his fist too.
The fight between the two men-the Grand Prix Association driver and the CEO of Blackwood-broke out, frightening the entire inpatient floor.
"They're fighting!" somebody screamed.
Claire had heard the commotion. She turned her wheelchair away from the window.
"Ms. Harrington, come out right now! Two men are fighting over you!"
Then she caught Ryan's angry yell. "Claire was blind! How could she fall for a hypocritical snake like you?"
Ryan couldn't have thrown a second punch before Adrian got between him and the way, looking dangerous. "What about you? You can't even stick up for her against your own mother. How do you stick up for her against my media influence?"
Nobody noticed the ward door slide open as Claire quietly escaped.
Ten minutes went by, and a little nurse answered the phone, her face paling. "What? Ms. Harrington already completed the discharge papers?!"
"What?" The nurse was overheard by Ryan, letting go of Adrian's shirt, dashing back to the empty ward.
Adrian didn't move, his lip bleeding, his face growing darker only slightly.
Ryan took the phone. "Where did she go?"
"Sir, we don't know. She left immediately."
Ryan swore, aware Claire would not respond to his call. "Adrian, for God's sake, if anything happens to her, I will do anything to make your family's real past known to the world!" Ryan threatened, rushing to the elevator.
"Mr. Blackwood, your lip is bleeding. Should we call a doctor?" Miles inquired anxiously.
"I'm okay." Adrian wiped the blood off. As soon as Ryan was out of sight, he spoke softly. "She won't get far."
Adrian was right. Claire had the gigantic expenses of Harrington Enterprises' lawsuits hanging above her head.
(Claire Harrington's POV)
Claire departed the hospital and found her phone ringing with messages summoning her to settle millions of dollars of debts immediately.
She sat in the wheelchair, laughing at her own bad luck. She was trapped.
The sky darkened, and a light rain began. Claire pushed the wheelchair hastily, searching for the nearest awning.
"Miss, are you all right? Do you require help?"
A man in a tastefully tailored suit blocked her path. Claire knew him: he was a regular at the Sterling Club.
She stared over his shoulder at the gaudy gold sign: The Sterling Club.
"There'll be no better working environment for Ms. Harrington, yeah?" Felicity's scornful voice lingered in her mind.
Thanks to Adrian, no respectable media or PR firm would touch her. And still, she was in debt by millions. Short of a club that traded reputation and shame, where else would she be able to make the money she required quickly?
Claire's fists clenched, hatred and a hot, burning refusal to accept anything flashing in her eyes. She was a Harrington. She'd start at the bottom if she had to.
"Hello," she told the man, her tone crisp. "I'm here to interview for a position."