Chapter 7
The next night, Clara told me the truth about the accident.
We were sitting in the cottage, drinking hot tea by the fire. The wind howled outside, and the cottage was warm and quiet, a world away from the lies and betrayal of the main house.
“I saw something that night,” she said, staring into her mug. “The night of your crash.”
I froze. “What?”
“I’d gone to visit my grandmother in the hospital,” she said. “She lives an hour outside the city, on that same highway. I was driving back around ten, and I saw your car. It was that black Ferrari you love, the one with the custom plates. I’d know it anywhere.”
She paused, swallowing hard.
“A big black truck was behind you,” she said. “It was riding your bumper, so close I could barely fit between you. Then it swerved, hitting the back of your car. You spun out, went off the road, and rolled down the embankment. The truck didn’t stop. It just kept going.”
My heart was pounding. “Did you see the driver?”
“Not his face,” she said. “But I saw the truck. It had a dent in the front bumper, on the passenger side. And a sticker on the back window—something about a construction company. Rico’s construction company. I saw it on his truck when Marcus brought him in for questioning last week.”
“Why didn’t you tell the police?” I asked.
She looked up at me, her eyes glistening. “Because Liam was at the hospital when you were brought in. I saw him slip the desk nurse an envelope of cash. I heard him tell her to make sure no one talked to any witnesses. I was scared. If he’d found out I’d seen something, he would have hurt me. Or my grandmother. She’s all I have.”
I reached across the table, taking her hand. Her fingers were cold, shaking a little.
“I’m not angry,” I said. “I understand. You did the right thing, keeping yourself safe. And now you’re telling me. That’s what matters.”
She squeezed my hand. “I should have said something sooner. If I had, maybe you wouldn’t have had to fake being paralyzed. Maybe none of this would have happened.”
“No,” I said. “It would have. They were always going to come for me. Vanessa only ever wanted my money. Liam has hated me since we were kids, because my father left the company to me and not him. This was always going to happen. You being here is the only good thing that came out of it.”
She smiled, a small, sad thing. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” I said. I leaned forward, so our faces were only inches apart. “Before the accident, I was a ghost. I worked all the time, I trusted the wrong people, I didn’t care about anything but the company. I was just as bad as they were, in my own way. You made me remember how to be a person. How to care about something other than money.”
She didn’t pull away. She just looked at me, her dark eyes searching mine.
“Ethan,” she said, her voice soft.
I kissed her then.
It was soft, tentative, like we were both scared the other would break. Her lips were warm, tasting like honey and tea, and she kissed me back, her fingers tangling in my hair. The fire crackled, and the wind howled outside, and for a little while, nothing else mattered.
When we pulled apart, she rested her forehead against mine.
“We can’t do this,” she said, but she didn’t move away. “Not yet. Not while they’re still out there. If they find out about us, they’ll use it against you. They’ll say you’re weak, that you’re letting a maid tell you what to do.”
“I don’t care what they say,” I said.
“I do,” she said. “I care about you. And I care about the company. All those people who work for you, who depend on you. We have to finish this first. Then… then we can talk about us.”
May you like
I nodded, kissing her again, quick and soft.
“Okay,” I said. “We finish this first. Then us.”
