Grant laughed.
“You prepared this already?”
Everett said, “I began preparing it after learning about Halcyon Ridge.”
“So this has nothing to do with Claire.”
“It has everything to do with who you have become.”
“You’ll destroy the stock price.”
“The company is private.”
“You’ll destroy confidence.”
“Then I’ll rebuild it.”
Grant looked at his father as if seeing him for the first time.
Everett continued.
“Your company credit access is frozen.”
Grant’s face changed.
“Your authority to execute contracts is suspended.”
“Dad.”
“Your board seat will be reviewed Monday.”
“Dad.”
“And Nathan will begin the process of removing you as a beneficiary with control rights over the Whitmore family voting trust.”
Grant stopped breathing for a second.
“You can’t disinherit me.”
Everett’s expression was exhausted.
“I can.”
“I’m your son.”
“Yes.”
“You have one son.”
“Yes.”
“Your name dies with me.”
Everett looked toward the hallway leading to the ballroom where Claire’s hospital bag had been sitting earlier.
“My granddaughter carries my blood.”
Grant laughed bitterly.
“You don’t even know if that baby is—”
He stopped.
Too late.
Everett’s eyes went cold.
Nathan lowered his pen.
Marcus looked directly at Grant.
Everett spoke slowly.
“If that baby is what?”
Grant tried to recover.
“Nothing.”
“Finish your sentence.”
“I’m angry.”
“You’re always angry when the truth gets close.”
Grant’s face flushed.
Everett stepped toward him.
“If that baby is what?”
Grant said nothing.
Everett’s voice dropped to almost a whisper.
“If you ever question the paternity of that child to humiliate Claire after what you did tonight, I will make sure the last thing you inherit from me is a photograph.”
Grant stared at him.
“A photograph?”
“Of the house you grew up in.”
Silence.
“Because you will not own that either.”
Grant’s eyes widened.
Everett continued.
“I have spent thirty-nine years building something I thought would protect my children.”
He closed the black folder.
“I will not use it to protect them from consequences.”
Grant’s voice was barely audible.
“You’d disown me over one mistake?”
Everett looked at the laptop.
“One mistake?”
Then at the forged signature.
“One?”
Then toward Marcus.
“The attempted bribe.”
Then back to Grant.
“The lie about Claire drinking.”
Everett shook his head.
“No, son.”
It was the last time anyone in the room would hear him call Grant that.
“I’m disowning you because every time you were given a chance to tell the truth, you chose another lie.”
Grant stood frozen.
Everett opened the door.
“Leave.”
Grant did not move.
“Dad.”
“Leave.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
For one terrible second Everett’s anger cracked and grief came through.
“You’re thirty-eight years old.”
He swallowed.
“I suppose you finally find out who you are without my money protecting you.”
Grant walked out.
He did not slam the door.
That somehow made it worse.
At 2:06 a.m., Claire woke to the sound of her hospital-room door opening.
Everett stepped inside carrying two coffees.
He looked twenty years older.
Claire pushed herself upright.
“What happened?”
“The board has been notified that Grant is suspended.”
Claire stared.
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“That was fast.”
“It needed to be.”
“And Halcyon Ridge?”
“Nathan has outside counsel reviewing it.”
“Grant?”
“Gone.”
“From the wedding?”
“From the company.”
Claire watched Everett set one coffee down.
“You fired your son.”
“Yes.”
“Because he hit me?”
Everett looked at her.
“Because he hit you, tried to erase it, tried to corrupt a witness, lied about you, and appears to have forged your signature in connection with forty-three million dollars of restricted assets.”
Claire nodded.
“That’s more accurate.”
Everett sat.
“He thinks I chose you over him.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
Claire waited.
Everett looked toward the monitor.
“I chose her.”
Claire followed his gaze.
Her daughter’s heartbeat continued its steady rhythm.
Everett whispered, “Someone has to teach her that love doesn’t require pretending terrible things didn’t happen.”
Claire looked away before emotion could reach her face.
After a moment, she asked, “Did he explain Halcyon Ridge?”
“No.”
“Then we’re not done.”
Everett almost smiled.
“No.”
Claire reached for the coffee.
Decaf.
Of course.
“Something else happened,” Everett said.
Claire stopped.
“What?”
“Grant said something.”
“What?”
Everett hesitated.
Claire hated hesitation.
“Tell me.”
“He began questioning whether the baby was his.”
Claire’s fingers went still around the cup.
“Began?”
“He stopped.”
“Because?”
“I encouraged him.”
Despite everything, Claire almost laughed.
Then her expression hardened.
“He’s never questioned paternity before.”
“I assumed as much.”
Claire looked toward the dark window.
“Then he was trying to hurt me.”
“Yes.”
“Or he was laying groundwork.”
Everett leaned forward.
“For what?”
Claire thought.
Grant had spent weeks pushing her to sign financial paperwork.
He had become increasingly hostile after Everett asked Claire to attend two strategy meetings.
He had complained that the pregnancy changed everything.
His words.
Everything.
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