Chapter 2 - The Footsteps Outside My Hospital Door
Sebastian Ashford had the unnerving ability to make a hospital room feel like a courtroom.
Nobody spoke.
Even Daniel seemed reluctant to move.
I pulled Owen closer.
“Explain.”
Sebastian studied me.
“You truly don't know?”
“If I knew, I wouldn't be asking.”
His gaze shifted to Daniel.
“Graham never told her?”
Daniel carefully answered, “Apparently not.”
Sebastian laughed without humor.
“Typical.”
“Tell me what this has to do with Owen.”
Sebastian approached the window.
“Graham's grandfather didn't trust him.”
That surprised me.
August Ashford had built most of the family's legitimate holdings while quietly controlling everything else from behind boardrooms and private clubs.
Graham had spent his entire adult life proving himself worthy of succeeding him.
“Before August died,” Sebastian continued, “he changed the family trust.”
“How?”
“A significant portion of the legitimate Ashford holdings passes through Graham only temporarily.”
My stomach tightened.
“And then?”
“To his first legitimate child.”
I looked at Owen.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
Daniel answered this time.
“Potentially several hundred million dollars.”
I stared at him.
Owen yawned.
The absurdity nearly made me laugh.
My son couldn't hold up his own head, yet grown men were discussing him like a corporate acquisition.
“I don't want it.”
Sebastian smiled faintly.
“That won't matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“Money like this doesn't disappear because you dislike it.”
“Then give it away.”
“It isn't simply money.”
His expression hardened.
“It's voting control.”
That changed everything.
Graham had inherited leadership of the Ashford organization, but the legitimate empire—real estate, shipping, logistics, manufacturing—had shareholders.
Owen could eventually control enough shares to influence who ran it.
“Does Graham know?”
Sebastian and Daniel exchanged a look.
Daniel answered.
“He knows the trust exists.”
“But?”
“He may not know the final amendment was executed.”
A cold realization settled over me.
“Then why did he tell me to leave?”
Sebastian turned.
“That is an excellent question.”
My phone suddenly vibrated.
A message.
Graham.
Daniel says you've signed. Flight arrangements will be made whenever you're medically cleared.
Nothing about Owen.
Nothing about me.
I showed Sebastian.
He read it.
Something almost like anger passed across his face.
“You should leave Chicago.”
“I was already planning to.”
“Soon.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No.”
He looked toward the hallway.
“I'm warning you.”
Daniel stood.
“Sebastian.”
“You know I'm right.”
“About what?”
Sebastian looked directly at me.
“The moment people discover what August did, your son stops being merely Graham Ashford's unwanted child.”
My arms tightened around Owen.
“He becomes leverage.”
The word chilled me.
I looked down at my sleeping baby.
“No one is using him for anything.”
“Then leave.”
“I will.”
“And don't tell Graham where.”
That surprised everyone.
Even Daniel.
“You want me to hide from my husband?”
“Your former husband.”
“He hasn't signed yet.”
“He will.”
Sebastian approached the bassinet.
His expression softened almost imperceptibly.
“August believed becoming a father might force Graham to become the man he should have been.”
“He was wrong.”
“Perhaps.”
Sebastian turned toward the door.
“Or perhaps Graham hasn't been given the opportunity to understand what he just threw away.”
After he left, Daniel remained.
I signed the remaining pages.
My hand didn't shake.
Three hours later, Owen slept beside me while I stared at airline routes on my phone.
London.
Paris.
Lisbon.
Toronto.
I wanted somewhere Graham's name meant nothing.
Then Daniel returned.
He looked disturbed.
“What happened?”
“Someone accessed the hospital's birth records.”
My heart stopped.
“Who?”
“We don't know.”
“Can they see Owen?”
“No. Security has been increased.”
I stared toward the door.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Claire, there's something else.”
He handed me a printed document.
It was an internal access log.
Someone had searched:
ASHFORD, OWEN — NEWBORN
Six minutes after Sebastian entered my room.
“Was it Graham?”
“No.”
“Vanessa?”
“We don't know.”
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
Daniel told me not to answer.
I did anyway.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a woman's voice.
“You should have listened to your husband.”
My blood turned cold.
“Who is this?”
“You were told to disappear.”
The call ended.
Daniel immediately reached for his phone.
But I was staring at Owen.
Because I recognized the voice.
It belonged to Vanessa Cole.
May you like
And she sounded terrified that my son existed.
---
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