Chapter 5 - THE MEDIA STORM
By the end of the week, the Ashford family scandal had exploded onto the front pages of every major news outlet in California.
“Newport Coast Dynasty Rocked by Fake DNA Conspiracy!” “Billionaire Heirs Arrested in Billion-Dollar Inheritance Plot!”
Papamedia camped outside my modest apartment building, forcing Maya to coordinate with local security just so I could walk Lily to her preschool without being blinded by camera flashes. The world wanted a piece of the drama, turning my private agony into public entertainment.
I spent most of my days inside, staring at the walls, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy for Lily. We baked cookies, built blanket forts, and read her favorite stories. To Lily, we were just on a "special girls' vacation" away from the big house. She asked about her father constantly, and every time she did, a piece of my heart withered away.
One afternoon, a delivery courier arrived at the door, bypassing the media gauntlet via the building’s service elevator. He handed me a large, heavy box wrapped in black paper. There was no return address, only a note attached to the top written in an elegant, spidery cursive script that I recognized instantly.
Helena.
My hands shook as I tore open the envelope.
Claire,
I understand you are currently feeling vindicated by the recent theatrical displays of the local police department. However, I suggest you consider the long-term consequences of your actions. An extended legal battle will destroy the Ashford reputation, which means it will ultimately destroy the inheritance that belongs to Lily.
If you drop the charges against Julian and myself, and sign a non-disclosure agreement regarding this unfortunate misunderstanding, I will personally guarantee a private trust fund of fifty million dollars for your daughter, accessible on her eighteenth birthday. Furthermore, I will arrange for a quiet, uncontested divorce settlement that will leave you independently wealthy for the rest of your life.
Do not let pride ruin your daughter’s future. We both know you do not belong in our world, Claire. Take the exit I am offering you.
— Helena Ashford
Inside the box was a certified bank draft for five million dollars—a "good faith" retainer to show she was serious.
I stared at the check, a cold, venomous anger rising up from the depths of my soul. Fifty million dollars. To Helena, everything had a price tag. Honor, truth, love, and family could all be bought, sold, or liquidated.
“What is that?” Maya asked, walking into the living room with a stack of legal documents. She saw the check in my hand and gasped. “Oh my god. Is that... an attempted bribe to a complaining witness in a criminal prosecution?”
“She thinks she can buy my silence, Maya,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “She thinks she can buy my daughter’s future.”
“This is an absolute gift,” Maya said, her eyes lighting up with savage professional glee. “Helena just handed us the golden ticket. This isn't just a bribe, Claire—this is tampering with a witness during an active felony investigation. She sent this after being formally arraigned.”
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“What do we do with it?”
“We don't cash it,” Maya smiled coldly, taking the check and the letter with a pair of tweezers from her bag, dropping them into a plastic evidence pouch. “We hand it directly to the District Attorney. Helena Ashford didn’t just open an exit door for you, Claire. She just locked herself inside her own prison cell.”
