Chapter 6 - Claire’s Last Secret
Victor Salerno survived.
That was important.
Dead men couldn't testify.
Within forty-eight hours, federal investigators had enough financial records to connect him to the Miami ambush, Isabella’s murder, and years of illegal operations hidden behind legitimate companies.
Cole Brennan started talking the moment he learned Victor was alive.
Cowards were remarkably cooperative when they realized loyalty would no longer save them.
Ashford House became quiet again.
Too quiet.
Three days later, I found Claire packing.
“What are you doing?”
She folded a blouse into a suitcase.
“Leaving.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“That wasn't a question.”
“Neither was my answer.”
She almost smiled.
“Mr. Vale—”
“Dominic.”
Her expression changed.
“You don't need me anymore.”
“Tell Emma.”
Claire looked away.
“She’ll adjust.”
“She didn't speak for three years.”
“That wasn’t because of me.”
“She spoke because of you.”
Claire sat on the edge of the bed.
“I came here under false pretenses.”
“To protect my family.”
“I lied to you.”
“Everybody lies to me.”
“That doesn't make it acceptable.”
I closed the door.
“What aren't you telling me?”
She went still.
“There’s always one more secret with you.”
She reached into her suitcase.
Then handed me an envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
Isabella.
Claire.
Together.
My eyes lifted.
“You said you only knew her through messages.”
“I lied.”
“When was this?”
“Two weeks before she died.”
Anger surged through me.
“You met my wife?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because she asked me not to.”
I stared at the photograph.
“Explain.”
Claire’s voice softened.
“Isabella knew Victor was watching her. She believed someone inside your security team was reporting everything she did.”
“Cole.”
“Yes.”
“She contacted me because she found Daniel Cross in an old intelligence file and connected him to Cole.”
Claire looked toward the window.
“She wanted to take the evidence to you.”
“Why didn’t she?”
“She was afraid you’d confront Victor before she could prove everything.”
She was right.
I would have.
“And the day she died?”
Claire swallowed.
“I was supposed to meet her.”
That explained the guilt I had seen.
“I was twelve minutes late.”
“Claire.”
“If I had arrived—”
“You would have died too.”
She looked at me.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
Silence.
Then the bedroom door opened.
Emma walked in.
She saw the suitcase.
“No.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“Emma—”
“No.”
She grabbed Claire’s clothes and threw them back into the dresser.
I almost laughed.
Claire stared at her.
“Sweetheart.”
“You live here.”
“I work here.”
Emma shook her head.
“No.”
Then Ava appeared.
“She's right.”
Harper stepped behind her.
“Unanimous vote.”
Claire looked at me.
“You planned this.”
“I didn’t.”
Ava shrugged.
“We did.”
Claire stood.
“I can’t stay here forever.”
“Why not?” Harper asked.
Claire looked helplessly at me.
For once, I enjoyed watching somebody else lose control of the room.
“You can stop being our maid,” Ava said.
Claire blinked.
“What?”
“You were never particularly good at the maid part.”
“I cleaned your room yesterday.”
“You put my shoes in alphabetical order.”
“I was stressed.”
Harper laughed.
Emma hugged Claire.
“Stay.”
One word.
That was all it took.
Claire’s resistance disappeared.
She knelt and hugged Emma.
“I’ll stay a little longer.”
Emma looked at me.
“Forever.”
I cleared my throat.
“That negotiation may require additional discussion.”
Ava groaned.
“Oh my God.”
Claire stood.
For the first time since I had known her, she laughed.
Not politely.
Not nervously.
Actually laughed.
And suddenly Ashford House didn't sound like a fortress anymore.
May you like
It sounded like a home.
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