Chapter 6 - THE PILLS BESIDE MY BED
The medication was not for my heart.
At least, it should not have been.
An independent physician reviewed my records and found no condition requiring it.
The pills could lower blood pressure, slow the heart, and cause fainting when taken at high doses.
Combined with alcohol or certain sedatives, they could become dangerous.
Dr. Morton had prescribed them after telling me I had an irregular heartbeat.
No such irregularity appeared in any legitimate test.
The laboratory reports in my file had been altered.
Someone had created a diagnosis that did not exist.
I remembered Daniel placing the small white tablet beside my coffee every morning.
He always smiled when I swallowed it.
I had mistaken control for concern.
“How long did you take them?” the independent physician asked.
“Nearly six months.”
“Any dizziness?”
“Several times.”
“Fainting?”
“Once.”
Daniel had found me unconscious beside the swimming pool.
He said I had slipped.
Evelyn later joked that I could not even walk across my own terrace without causing drama.
At the time, I had been embarrassed.
Now I understood how close I might have come to falling into the water.
Rebecca notified investigators.
Dr. Morton’s clinic was searched before noon.
He attempted to delete files while officers were entering.
They recovered prescription records, altered laboratory results, payments from Northstar, and encrypted messages with Daniel.
Morton was arrested for medical fraud and reckless endangerment.
He requested an attorney.
He refused to answer questions.
Daniel released another statement.
He claimed he had no knowledge of my treatment and described Morton as “Claire’s personal physician.”
The lie lasted three hours.
Investigators found footage of Daniel visiting the clinic.
They also found a handwritten note in Morton’s desk.
Increase gradually.
Must appear natural.
No hospital unless necessary.
The note did not include my name.
It did not need to.
My medical file sat directly beneath it.
Marcus moved me to a secure residence owned by Bennett Holdings.
The house stood behind high walls near the coast.
Only four people knew the address.
Rebecca.
Marcus.
My chief financial officer, Helen Park.
And me.
For the first time since leaving the mansion, I slept for more than two hours.
I woke shortly after midnight to the sound of breaking glass.
Marcus entered my bedroom before I reached the door.
“Stay behind me.”
An alarm flashed silently near the ceiling.
One of the rear windows had shattered.
Security lights illuminated the garden.
Two guards moved along the exterior wall.
A shadow crossed the terrace.
Marcus drew his weapon.
“Call the police.”
I locked myself inside the reinforced bathroom and dialed.
The intruder never entered the house.
He ran when the exterior alarms activated.
Police found a motorcycle abandoned near the service road.
Inside its storage compartment was a syringe.
The liquid tested positive for the same medication Dr. Morton had prescribed to me, combined with a powerful sedative.
The motorcycle had been reported stolen.
The rider wore a helmet.
No fingerprints remained.
By sunrise, news of the attempted break-in had reached the press.
Daniel claimed I had staged it.
Evelyn called a morning television program and described me as unstable.
“She has always needed attention,” she said.
“She fabricates crises whenever Daniel focuses on his work.”
The interviewer asked about the foyer video.
Evelyn smiled.
“Families argue.”
The interviewer asked about the forged deed.
“My son’s attorneys handle property matters.”
The interviewer asked about Vanessa and the child.
Evelyn’s smile remained perfect.
“I will never apologize for loving my granddaughter.”
That single word destroyed Daniel’s public denial.
Granddaughter.
Not Vanessa’s child.
Not an unrelated baby.
Her granddaughter.
Within minutes, the clip spread across every news platform.
Whitmore Development’s board voted unanimously to remove Daniel as chief executive.
Arthur Cole became interim chairman.
The company’s lenders froze all new credit.
Employees began leaving.
Contractors filed claims.
The empire Daniel believed he had built started collapsing before lunch.
He came to the courthouse during my hearing for an extended protective order.
Cameras surrounded the entrance.
Daniel pushed through them without speaking.
Inside, he sat across the courtroom wearing a navy suit I had bought for his birthday.
His attorney argued that I was abusing legal proceedings to gain leverage in a divorce.
Rebecca played the foyer video.
The judge watched Daniel slap me.
Then she played the recorded phone call in which he admitted it.
The protective order was extended for one year.
Daniel was ordered to remain five hundred feet away from me, my residence, my office, and any property owned by Bennett Holdings.
As officers escorted him toward the exit, he looked at me.
No anger showed on his face.
Only calculation.
“You think this ends in court?” he said.
The deputy tightened his grip on Daniel’s arm.
Rebecca stepped between us.
Outside, reporters shouted questions.
I said nothing until we reached the car.
Then Marcus received a call from the coastal residence.
Someone had delivered a package.
It had been addressed to me.
Security had placed it inside an explosive containment unit.
The bomb squad opened it.
There was no explosive.
Only the wedding ring I had left inside Daniel’s bathroom weeks earlier.
A drop of dried blood marked the gold.
Beneath it lay a photograph of my father’s grave.
May you like
On the back, someone had written three words.
You are next.
