Chapter 6 - THE UNHOLY ALLIANCE
The morning sun barely cut through the thick haze over the Hudson River when my phone buzzed violently on the marble kitchen island.
An unknown caller ID flashed across the screen.
I pressed accept and brought the phone to my ear.
“Mrs. Ashford?”
a cool,
composed female voice asked.
It took me three seconds to place it.
Vanessa.
“How did you get this number?”
I asked,
my fingers tightening around the ceramic coffee mug.
“Let’s just say Grant isn’t the only one who keeps private records,”
Vanessa replied,
her tone devoid of the hysterical edge she had shown in the conference room yesterday.
“Where are you?”
“A quiet cafe on Madison Avenue,”
she said smoothly.
“And before you hang up and call your pitbull attorney Martin Bell,
hear me out.
You and I want the same thing.”
“Doubtful,”
I said coldly.
“I want my child protected and a corrupt man exposed.
You wanted a billionaire wedding and front-row seats at fashion week.”
“I wanted security,”
Vanessa corrected sharply.
“And last night,
when I went to collect my belongings from Grant’s townhouse,
his security team had already boxed up my things and deleted my digital footprint from his servers.
He discarded me like a used paper napkin,
Claire.”
“Welcome to the club,”
I murmured.
“Meet me at the cafe in forty minutes,”
Vanessa said urgently.
“Bring the baby if you have to.
I have something Grant left in his private study safe before he married you—
something that proves Ashford Capital wasn’t built on venture capital.
It was built on stolen identity.”
Before I could answer,
the line went dead.
I stared at the screen for ten seconds,
my mind racing through the tactical implications.
May you like
Was it a trap?
Or was Grant’s empire finally fracturing from the inside out?
