Chapter 4 - The Grandmother Who Tried to Buy Two ChildrenBy the time Ethan and I reached my house, Margaret Sullivan was standing on the front porch.
She wore a cream-colored coat and carried a leather handbag worth more than my monthly mortgage payment.
Two men in dark suits waited beside a black sedan.
My front door remained locked.
Mrs. Reynolds had followed my instructions.
Margaret turned when our car stopped.
Her eyes narrowed at the sight of Ethan.
"What are you doing here?"
He stepped out before I could answer.
"What are you doing at Claire's home?"
Margaret straightened.
"I came to meet my grandchildren."
The word made me furious.
"Your grandchildren?"
She looked at me.
"Whatever our disagreements, Claire, they're family."
I walked toward the porch.
"Ten years ago, you told me my pregnancy changed nothing."
Margaret's expression tightened.
"That was a complicated time."
"No. It was very simple. I told you I was pregnant. You hid it from your son."
Ethan approached.
"Mother, leave."
She stared at him.
"Don't be absurd."
"I'm serious."
Margaret glanced toward the front windows.
"I brought gifts."
She opened her handbag and removed two small velvet boxes.
Inside were expensive watches.
One decorated with diamonds.
The other made of polished steel.
"For the children."
I didn't touch them.
"They don't need gifts."
Margaret smiled thinly.
"Every child needs opportunities."
Ethan stepped between us.
"Stop."
She turned on him.
"You have no idea what that woman intends to do to this family."
I laughed bitterly.
"This family?"
Margaret ignored me.
"She arrives at your gala with two children, creates a public scandal, and suddenly her attorney produces claims worth hundreds of millions. Can't you see what's happening?"
Ethan's jaw tightened.
"Yes."
She relaxed slightly.
"Finally."
He continued.
"I'm seeing what you did to my marriage."
Her smile vanished.
"And I'm seeing what you stole from my children."
For a moment, Margaret looked genuinely wounded.
Then her expression hardened.
"Everything I did was for you."
Ethan shook his head.
"No. Everything you did was to control me."
Margaret stepped closer.
"Without me, Sullivan Group would never have survived."
"Without Claire, it wouldn't have existed."
The words stunned us both.
Ethan turned toward me.
"I should have said that ten years ago."
I looked away.
Inside the house, the curtains shifted.
Sophie stood at the window.
Noah appeared beside her.
Margaret noticed them.
Her expression softened in a way I didn't trust.
"Let me speak to them."
"No," I said.
She glared.
"They're my grandchildren."
"Biology doesn't give you permission to frighten them."
Ethan took out his phone.
"Your driver can take you home. If you return without Claire's permission, I'll have security remove you."
Margaret stared at him.
"You would humiliate your own mother?"
He looked exhausted.
"You taught me how."
She stepped backward as though he'd struck her.
Then she returned to her car.
But before climbing inside, she looked directly at me.
"You think you've won."
I held her gaze.
"This isn't a game."
Her lips curled.
"Everything is a game when enough money is involved."
The sedan drove away.
Only then did I realize my hands were shaking.
Ethan noticed.
"Claire..."
"I'm fine."
"You don't look fine."
I turned toward him.
"Don't start pretending you know me."
He lowered his eyes.
"You're right."
I opened the front door.
The twins rushed toward me.
Sophie wrapped her arms around my waist.
"Mom!"
Noah stood behind her, trying to appear composed.
"Was that our grandmother?"
"Yes."
He frowned.
"She seemed unpleasant."
Ethan made a strange sound.
It took me a moment to realize he was suppressing a laugh.
Noah noticed him.
"Hello, Mr. Sullivan."
Ethan's expression softened.
"Hello, Noah."
Sophie looked up.
"Did you bring pizza?"
We all stared at her.
She shrugged.
"Mom said serious conversations are easier with food."
For the first time in ten years, Ethan laughed in my presence.
A real laugh.
Warm.
Unexpected.
And painfully familiar.
"I didn't," he admitted. "But I can order some."
Sophie considered him.
"Pepperoni?"
"Of course."
"Extra cheese?"
"Absolutely."
She nodded.
"Okay. You can come in for twenty minutes."
Noah sighed.
"Sophie, that's not how boundaries work."
"Then you explain them."
Ethan looked at me.
I hesitated.
Then I stepped aside.
"Twenty minutes."
He entered the house slowly.
His gaze moved over the family photographs on the walls.
The twins at kindergarten graduation.
Sophie missing her front teeth.
Noah holding a science-fair trophy.
A Christmas photograph of the three of us wearing ridiculous matching pajamas.
Ethan stopped in front of it.
"How old were they here?"
"Six."
He stared.
"They look happy."
"They were."
He nodded.
"Good."
Something about that quiet response made my chest ache.
While we waited for the pizza, Noah brought out a chessboard.
"Do you play?"
Ethan blinked.
"Yes."
"Good."
Noah arranged the pieces.
"I want to see whether you're actually intelligent or just wealthy."
I nearly laughed.
Ethan sat opposite him.
"Fair enough."
The game lasted twenty-three minutes.
Noah won.
Ethan stared at the board.
Then at his son.
"You set that up eight moves ago."
Noah nodded.
"Nine."
Ethan smiled.
"You're very good."
"I practice."
"With whom?"
"Mom."
Ethan looked toward me.
"Does she win?"
Noah hesitated.
"Sometimes."
Sophie leaned over.
"Mom wins when Noah gets arrogant."
"That's not statistically accurate," Noah protested.
The room filled with laughter.
For a few moments, it felt like an ordinary family evening.
Then Ethan's phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
His expression changed.
"Excuse me."
He stepped into the hallway.
I heard only fragments.
"What do you mean the records are gone?"
A pause.
"Who authorized that?"
Another pause.
Then his voice sharpened.
"Freeze every account connected to that transfer."
He returned looking grim.
"Claire, I need to speak with Lucas."
"Why?"
"Someone is moving money out of the Sullivan family holding company."
I stared at him.
"Your mother?"
"I don't know."
He hesitated.
"But whoever it is started transferring funds less than an hour after I confronted her."
Noah looked up from the chessboard.
"That sounds like evidence destruction."
Ethan met his eyes.
"Yes."
Noah nodded.
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"Then you should probably stop talking and call your lawyer."
For once, nobody disagreed.
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