Chapter 13 - An Unwelcome Ghost
Instead of hiding, Claire decided to face the storm head-on. She agreed to meet Richard at a high-end, secluded restaurant downtown—a place where the wealthy conducted their quiet wars. She insisted David sit at a table nearby, out of sight but within signaling distance.
When Richard walked in, Claire felt a cold shiver run down her spine. He looked immaculate, dressed in a bespoke navy suit, his hair perfectly coiffed. But to Claire, the charm was gone, replaced by the transparent mask of a sociopath.
"Claire," Richard smiled, reaching for her hand. She pulled it back, placing it firmly in her lap. "Still as cold as ever, I see. You look beautiful. The scar... well, it adds character, doesn't it?"
"Cut the act, Richard," Claire said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You’re out on a technicality, and you're broke. Your corporate partners abandoned you, and your family name is dirt. What do you want?"
Richard laughed, a low, mocking sound. "Broke? Hardly. I have friends in very high, very dark places, Claire. People who don't like seeing a woman of your... stature... setting a precedent for 'rebellion.' Your little charity is making too many waves. You're encouraging wives to leave wealthy men. You're disrupting the natural order of our social circle."
"The natural order of domestic terror," Claire corrected, staring directly into his eyes without flinching. "I will never give you a single dollar of the foundation's money."
May you like
Richard leaned in, his smile vanishing, replaced by the cruel sneer she knew too well. "We’ll see about that. By next week, the courts will freeze your assets. The press will get a very interesting story about how Claire Vance stole millions from her dying mother to fund a personal vendetta. You’ll be ruined, Claire. Come back to me, admit you were wrong, and I might make this all go away."
Claire leaned forward, her face inches from his. "I survived you when I had nothing, Richard. Now, I have everything to fight for. Try your worst."
