Chapter 5 - The Glass House
The day after the gala, Claire went back to her clinical duties at the Seattle Veterans Medical Center.
She spent six hours evaluating stroke patients and guiding injured soldiers through physical rehabilitation. It was hard, exhausting, honest work—the anchor that kept her connected to who she was before she signed the Vale contract.
At four in the afternoon, she was packing her satchel in the staff room when her phone rang.
It was an unknown local number.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Vale?” a man’s voice spoke. It was low, gravelly, and unfamiliar.
Claire’s posture straightened. “Who is this?”
“A friend who thinks you should check the brake lines on your mother’s transport van in California,” the voice said smoothly. “It would be a pity if her recovery was cut short.”
Claire’s blood ran ice-cold. “What did you say?”
“Tell your husband that the board meeting on Thursday is his last chance to step down voluntarily,” the voice continued flatly. “A blind man has no business leading Vale Meridian. And a dead wife won't save him.”
The line went dead.
Claire stared at her phone, her hands shaking so violently she nearly dropped it.
She grabbed her coat, ran out to her modest sedan in the parking garage, and drove straight to Mercer Island.
She didn't use the front entrance. She slammed through the heavy front doors, her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird.
“Adrian!” she shouted into the cavernous hallway.
Mrs. Gable ran out of the dining room, looking startled. “Mrs. Vale! What’s wrong?”
“Where is he?” Claire demanded, her voice shaking.
“In the lower study,” Mrs. Gable said. “Mr. Croft is with him—”
Claire didn't wait. She marched down the lower hallway, pushed open the heavy teak door of the study, and slammed it shut behind her.
Adrian was sitting behind a glass desk, dark glasses off, surrounded by glowing monitor screens displaying real-time financial markets and dock security feeds. Julian Croft sat nearby with an open tablet.
Both men looked up in shock at her sudden entrance.
“Claire?” Adrian stood up immediately, his gray eyes catching her frantic expression. “What happened?”
Claire walked straight up to his desk, slammed her phone onto the glass top, and looked him right in the eye.
“They called me.”
Adrian’s expression instantly turned to stone. “Who?”
“I don't know,” Claire said, her voice trembling despite her effort to stay calm. “A man. He knew about my mother’s clinic in California. He knew about the transport van. He said if you don't step down at the board meeting on Thursday, a dead wife won't save you.”
Julian gasped, standing up from his chair. “My God. They’re moving faster than we calculated.”
Adrian didn't say a word.
He stepped around the desk, grabbed Claire by the shoulders, and pulled her into his chest.
The impact was sudden, warm, and fierce. His hands held the back of her head, his heartbeat steady and strong against her cheek.
“Nothing is going to happen to your mother,” Adrian swore, his voice a low, vibrating growl of absolute authority. “I have four private security guards at her facility in California right now. No one touches her.”
Claire buried her face in his neck, breathing in the scent of cedar, wool, and rain that was uniquely his. The terror that had gripped her since the phone call slowly began to thaw under his absolute protection.
“They know about us, Adrian,” she whispered against his skin. “They know I’m your weak point.”
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Adrian pulled back slightly, looking down into her face. His gray eyes were burning with a terrifying, fierce light.
“You aren't my weak point, Claire,” Adrian said softly, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbone. “You are the only reason I’m going to tear them apart on Thursday.”
