Chapter 7 - The Mask Slips
The ride home was a nightmare of shouting and accusations.
Grant had lost his cool,
the polished businessman replaced by a man filled with rage.
"You had no right!"
he yelled,
slamming his hand against the leather seat.
"That was a professional setting!"
"Professional?"
I asked,
my voice cold and level.
"Is that what you call your mistress now?"
He stopped,
his eyes wide with shock.
"I know about the Hamptons,
Grant."
"I know about the jewelry."
"I know about the divorce papers in your desk."
He didn't deny it.
He didn't even try to apologize.
He just laughed,
a harsh,
dry sound that chilled me to the bone.
"And what are you going to do,
Claire?"
"You have nothing."
"This house,
this money,
it's all mine."
"The Mercer name is mine."
"You're just a woman carrying my son."
"Once he's born,
you're nothing."
I looked at him,
seeing him for the first time.
He wasn't the man I had married.
He was a monster built of ego and greed.
"You think I'm weak because I'm pregnant,"
I said.
"But you've forgotten one thing."
"I've been watching you for ten years."
"I know your secrets,
Grant."
"I know about the offshore accounts."
"I know about the 'donations' that were actually bribes."
He went pale then,
the rage replaced by fear.
"You wouldn't."
"Try me,"
I said.
"I have copies of everything."
"If you try to take my son,
I will burn your empire to the ground."
We reached the house,
the glass walls glowing in the moonlight.
He got out of the car without a word,
walking into the house and slamming the door.
I sat in the back of the car for a long time,
my body shaking,
my heart racing.
The baby kicked hard,
a reminder of what I was fighting for.
I felt a sudden,
sharp pain in my abdomen,
a tightening that didn't go away.
I looked down at my dress,
seeing a wet stain spreading across the blue silk.
The stress had finally taken its toll.
The baby was coming.
And I was alone in the driveway of a glass house,
with a husband who hated me.
I reached for my phone,
my fingers fumbling as I dialed the only person I could trust.
"It's time,"
I whispered.
May you like
"Please,
hurry."
