Chapter 10 - The Child the Dynasty Couldn’t Control
Time did not slow.
People liked to say that after disasters.
Nathaniel would later wish it had.
Instead everything happened brutally fast.
Clare struck the first step on her side.
Her shoulder hit marble.
Her dress twisted beneath her.
She rolled.
Someone screamed.
Nathaniel dropped the ledger.
He moved before anyone else.
Two stairs at a time.
Clare slid toward the lower landing.
Nathaniel caught her before she reached it.
He dropped to his knees.
“Clare.”
She was conscious.
Barely.
Her face was white.
“Nathaniel.”
“I’m here.”
Her hands remained around her stomach.
“The baby.”
“I know.”
“The baby.”
“I know.”
Nathaniel looked at his hand.
Blood.
Not much.
Enough.
Something inside him went silent.
He removed his jacket and placed it beneath Clare’s head.
“Call an ambulance.”
No one moved.
Nathaniel looked up.
“CALL AN AMBULANCE!”
The room exploded into motion.
Phones appeared.
Security rushed forward.
Nathaniel looked toward the landing.
Eleanor stood with a hand over her mouth.
Douglas looked stunned.
Victoria was crying.
Harrison Bowmont stared down.
Richard Crane stood three feet from where Clare had been pushed.
His face unreadable.
Nathaniel memorized every position.
Every face.
Clare grabbed his wrist.
“Don’t leave.”
He looked down instantly.
“I’m not leaving.”
“It hurts.”
His hands shook.
Nathaniel Ashcroft’s hands did not shake.
They did now.
“Look at me.”
Clare tried.
“Stay with me.”
“The baby—”
“Both of you.”
His voice broke.
“You’re both staying with me.”
Paramedics arrived within eight minutes.
It felt like eight years.
They stabilized Clare.
Nathaniel rode with her.
Behind him, Marcus locked down the estate.
Nobody left.
Not Douglas.
Not Eleanor.
Not the Bowmonts.
Not Richard.
Nathaniel made that order from the ambulance.
“No one leaves until investigators arrive.”
Marcus hesitated.
“Your father—”
“Especially him.”
At the hospital Clare disappeared behind emergency-room doors.
Nathaniel stood outside covered in her blood.
A nurse tried to take his jacket.
He refused.
Marcus arrived thirty minutes later.
Nathaniel turned.
“Who?”
“We don’t know.”
“Cameras?”
“One staircase camera went dark seven seconds before she fell.”
Nathaniel stared.
“Seven.”
“Yes.”
“Other cameras?”
“Crowd blocked most angles.”
“Who disabled it?”
“Working on it.”
Nathaniel’s face became empty.
Marcus knew that expression.
It terrified him.
“Nathaniel.”
“Everyone was there.”
“Yes.”
“My mother.”
“Yes.”
“My father.”
“Yes.”
“Victoria.”
“Yes.”
“Richard.”
“Yes.”
Nathaniel looked toward the operating doors.
“And nobody moved.”
Marcus had no answer.
Three hours passed.
A doctor finally approached.
Nathaniel stood so fast the chair scraped backward.
“Clare Whitmore?”
“Yes.”
“She has a fractured wrist, bruising, a mild concussion, and significant trauma.”
Nathaniel swallowed.
“The baby?”
The doctor paused.
That pause nearly killed him.
“There was bleeding.”
Nathaniel stopped breathing.
“But fetal cardiac activity is present.”
He closed his eyes.
The doctor continued.
“We need to monitor her closely. The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours are important.”
“Can I see her?”
“Soon.”
Nathaniel sat.
For the first time since childhood, he put his head in his hands and cried.
Quietly.
No audience.
No dignity.
No calculation.
When Clare woke, the room was dark except for monitor lights.
Nathaniel sat beside her.
His shirt had dried stiff.
She moved.
He immediately stood.
“Hey.”
“Nathaniel?”
“I’m here.”
Her hand moved toward her stomach.
“The baby’s heartbeat is strong.”
Clare closed her eyes.
Tears slid sideways into her hair.
Nathaniel touched her face.
“The doctor says we need to watch.”
“Okay.”
She opened her eyes again.
“I didn’t fall.”
Nathaniel became still.
“I know.”
“No.”
Clare’s voice shook.
“Someone pushed me.”
“I know.”
“I felt a hand.”
“Did you see who?”
“No.”
Nathaniel closed his eyes.
Clare tightened her grip around his fingers.
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
He almost laughed.
“You’re in a hospital bed and that’s your concern?”
“I know you.”
Nathaniel looked at her.
Clare whispered, “Don’t become them because of me.”
He bowed his head.
“That may be the hardest thing you’ve ever asked.”
“Promise.”
He could not.
Clare saw it.
“Nathaniel.”
“I promise I won’t hurt anyone.”
She relaxed slightly.
He continued.
“But I will destroy everything they used to do this.”
Clare looked at him.
“That sounds different.”
“It is.”
At 4:12 a.m. Douglas arrived.
Nathaniel met him outside Clare’s room.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Douglas looked older than he had twelve hours earlier.
“I came to see whether she’s alive.”
“She is.”
“And the child?”
“Alive.”
Douglas exhaled.
Nathaniel watched him.
“Who pushed her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who disabled the camera?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you authorize Richard to stop us leaving?”
Douglas stared.
“No.”
Nathaniel believed him.
Again.
That meant the situation was worse.
His father had created a machine he no longer controlled.
Douglas whispered, “Nathaniel, I never wanted this.”
“No.”
Nathaniel stepped closer.
“You just built a family where someone thought it was acceptable.”
Douglas’s face tightened.
Nathaniel continued.
“For years you taught everyone around you that the company mattered more than people. The alliance mattered more than people. The name mattered more than people.”
His voice remained low.
“Tonight somebody believed you.”
Douglas looked away.
Nathaniel’s anger became ice.
“If she loses that baby, none of you walk away.”
Douglas looked back.
Nathaniel did not blink.
“And even if she doesn’t, this dynasty ends exactly as it exists tonight.”
He entered Clare’s room and closed the door.
Outside, Douglas remained alone.
May you like
For the first time in his life, the patriarch of the Ashcroft family looked afraid of his own son.
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