Chapter 18 - The Ghost of the PastClaire stared at her cousin, the sheer audacity of his threat hanging in the sterile air between them. For a fraction of a second, the old terror threatened to pull her under—the paralyzing fear that no matter how hard she fought, the chains of her family’s history would always drag her back down.
Then she thought of the letter her father had left behind in the church. She owes Morgan nothing. She owes my legacy nothing.
“Release them,” Claire said quietly.
Julian’s smirk faltered. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Claire stepped forward, her voice steady and clear. “Release whatever secrets you think my father hid. Post them online, send them to the press, broadcast them across every billboard in the city. Do you honestly think I care about a legacy built on skeletons and stolen ink?”
“You’re bluffing,” Julian snapped, losing his composure. “Your entire identity is tied to Morgan Urban Development.”
“My identity is mine,” she replied, slipping her phone back into her coat pocket as sirens began wailing in the distance—closer than Julian realized. “You think you inherited David’s mind, Julian, but you inherited his blindness. You think people care about ancient corporate dirt in 2029? The world watched Vivian Blackwood and Ethan burn. They’ll watch you turn to ash right beside them.”
Headlights cut through the wire mesh of the storage facility doors. Federal agents, led by Reyes, poured into the corridor.
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Julian spun toward the exit, but the path was blocked. As cuffs clicked around his wrists, he turned back to glare at Claire with pure venom. “You won’t survive what’s coming next. The board of Blackwood doesn't answer to me, and they certainly don't answer to you. Someone higher up owns the remaining debt.”
Claire didn't flinch as they led him away. But his words stayed with her: Someone higher up.
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