Chapter 8 - GREGORY VALE HAD ANOTHER DAUGHTER
Federal agents separated everyone.
Gregory was questioned.
Fiona screamed at him through a conference-room door.
I remained in bed attached to fetal monitors, watching my entire marriage turn into an organized-crime flowchart.
Two hours later, Nathan returned.
“Gregory didn’t create the guardianship petition.”
“How do they know?”
“Security footage.”
The hotel retained hallway recordings.
Gregory entered the suite once.
But the file was created ninety minutes later.
Someone else used Matthias’s laptop.
A woman.
Long dark coat.
Hat.
Face mostly hidden.
Fiona stared at the still image.
Then sat down.
“I know her.”
Gregory looked as though someone had punched him.
“No.”
Fiona whispered,
“Dad.”
He would not answer.
She stood.
“Who is she?”
Gregory finally told us.
Before Fiona was born, he had another daughter.
Claire.
Different mother.
Claire grew up largely outside his life.
She was brilliant.
Angry.
And for four years she worked inside Dre Capital’s legal department under her married name.
Claire Harlan.
I knew her.
Everyone did.
Claire was Conrad Dre’s general counsel.
The woman who had drafted half the family agreements Nathan was now questioning.
“She’s your daughter?” Matthias demanded.
Gregory looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
Fiona laughed bitterly.
“So you sent me into Matthias’s bed while your other daughter controlled the contracts?”
“I never sent you into anyone’s bed.”
“Close enough.”
Nathan searched Claire’s employment history.
She had joined Dre Capital six years earlier.
Just months after Gregory disappeared.
She had access to my trust documents.
Medical insurance records.
Matthias’s laptop during corporate travel.
Estate security.
Everything.
But motive remained unclear.
Gregory answered that too.
Claire’s mother had died after losing nearly everything in a Dre Capital investment decades earlier.
Gregory believed Conrad manipulated the fund.
Claire blamed the entire Dre family.
“She wanted revenge?”
“More than revenge.”
Gregory looked toward me.
“She wanted restitution.”
I stared.
“By stealing my child?”
“No.”
His expression turned grim.
“By taking control of your daughter’s trust.”
Forty-two million dollars.
If Claire became guardian, she could potentially influence the trust for years.
Not easily.
But enough chaos could create opportunities.
Police searched Claire’s Manhattan apartment.
Empty.
Computer destroyed.
Passport gone.
Then Nathan remembered something.
Claire had attended the Christmas party.
Her name was not on the twelve-person list.
We reviewed security footage from the estate.
There she was.
Blue velvet dress.
Champagne.
Smiling.
Then disappearing through the service corridor seven minutes before the evacuation.
Claire was WINTER.
We finally had our mastermind.
Or thought we did.
At 3:04 a.m., the fetal monitor changed.
My daughter’s heart rate dropped.
Nurses rushed in.
I felt another contraction.
Then another.
The doctor examined me.
Four centimeters.
Labor was progressing.
Thirty-two weeks.
Too soon.
Matthias stood outside the room because I still had not allowed him back inside.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
Nathan answered on speaker.
Claire Harlan’s calm voice filled the room.
“Serena, congratulations.”
I felt ice move through me.
“You were always the difficult part.”
“What do you want?”
“Nothing anymore.”
Then she laughed softly.
“The final document was signed twenty minutes ago.”
Nathan went pale.
“What document?”
May you like
Claire answered:
“The one proving Matthias is not the father of Serena’s baby.”
