Chapter 7 - The Bride
Claire saw Daniel reading the appointment and knew the room was slipping away from her.
“She wasn’t supposed to have that page,” she said.
Maya laughed once, stunned by the arrogance of it. “That’s your defense?”
Claire ignored her and looked only at Daniel.
“You don’t understand what your family is. Your father spent years letting executives siphon money while pretending the reserve would be fixed later. Your board would never return it voluntarily.”
“So you decided to steal it first?”
“I decided to survive them.”
Her voice finally cracked on the truth.
For the first time, Daniel heard something beyond calculation in her tone. Not innocence. But motive. Claire had not invented the corruption. She had simply chosen to profit from it.
“My father knew,” Daniel whispered.
“Yes,” Claire said. “And he signed off on half the delays.”
The words hit him like another spill across his chest.
Maya watched his face change. This was the moment class protected no one. Old money, elegant brides, polished weddings—none of it could hide what men in suits had signed years before.
Claire stepped closer.
“I was going to repay the workers.”
Maya’s eyes flashed. “With their own fund.”
Claire looked at her. “At least they would have gotten something.”
“There it is,” Maya said quietly. “That’s what all of you think. That people like us should be grateful for partial justice.”
Daniel’s hand tightened around the papers.
Then a second sealed envelope slid out from the back of the folder.
May you like
Claire went white.
She hadn’t known it was there.
