Chapter 3 - THE INHERITANCE OF LIES
Liam didn't raise his voice, but the sheer physical presence of the man—six-foot-two, broad-shouldered, and radiating cold fury—made Helen instinctively retreat toward the window like a cornered animal.
“Helen,” Liam said softly, closing the door behind him. “Visiting hours for toxic relatives ended three hours ago.”
Helen managed to pull a veneer of haughty offense over her trembling features. “Liam, darling, thank goodness you're here. I was just trying to talk some sense into my daughters. The media circus outside is—is destroying our family name. You know how fragile Brooke is—”
“Brooke is a sociopath,” Liam interrupted smoothly, setting his coffee on the bedside table. He didn't look at Helen; his gaze was fixed entirely on me, checking to see if my color had returned. Satisfied that I was holding my ground, he turned his cold, calculating eyes to my mother. “And you, Helen, are an accessory after the fact. You might want to hold off on planning any more press conferences. My family's legal team has already secured the security footage from the rooftop terrace.”
All the blood drained from Helen’s face, leaving her looking remarkably old. “The... the footage?”
“Every single angle,” Liam confirmed, stepping between her and my bed, cutting off her access to me entirely. “High-definition, crystal clear audio of Brooke screaming in panic, and high-def footage of her hands explicitly gripping the handles of Claire’s chair and shoving her forward. The police have it. The district attorney has it. Brooke's arrest warrant is currently being processed as we speak.”
Helen staggered backward, clutching the edge of the leather armchair. “No... you can't do that. The Vance family... our business partnerships—!”
“Are over,” Liam stated flatly. “The wedding is canceled. Permanently. And as for the Vance-Sinclair merger, my father and I are drafting documents tonight to pull every single penny of our investment out of your company. By sunrise, your family will be bankrupt.”
“You're destroying us over a cripple?” Helen screeched, the mask completely shattering as true, unadulterated desperation took over.
“Watch your mouth,” Liam snarled, a flash of genuine menace crossing his handsome features. The air in the room grew heavy and dangerous. “Step out of this room right now, Helen. If you come within five hundred yards of Claire again, I will personally ensure you spend your golden years sharing a cell with your golden daughter.”
Trembling with a mixture of rage, terror, and absolute defeat, Helen grabbed her designer purse, shot me one final, venomous look of pure hatred, and fled the room, slamming the door behind her.
The room fell silent once more, save for the rhythmic hum of the medical equipment.
I looked up at Liam, my heart pounding against my ribs. “You're destroying your family's biggest business partnership for me. Your father is going to furious.”
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Liam pulled up a chair beside my bed, gently taking my cold hand in his calloused palm. He rubbed his thumb over my knuckles, his expression softening into something devastatingly tender.
“Claire,” he said quietly, looking deep into my eyes. “My father values loyalty above all else. And when he finds out what Brooke did to you—and what she hid about the accident six months ago—he won't just pull out of the merger. He’ll help me bury them.”
