Chapter 196

Chapter 196
Claire's POV

I quickly returned to my apartment and immediately contacted my family.

"Everyone will be at the estate by seven," I told Daniel, who was watching me from the kitchen doorway. "Except Hannah and Owen. They're still in Vietnam."

Daniel set down his coffee mug and crossed the room to me. "Do you want me to come with you?"

I shook my head. "This is family business. I need to handle it alone."

His warm hand covered mine, squeezing gently. "Call me if you need anything."

"I will." I kissed him quickly, then grabbed my purse and keys. "Don't wait up."

The drive to the family estate felt longer than usual. By the time I arrived, most of the cars were already parked in the circular driveway. I took a deep breath before walking inside, steeling myself for what was coming.

Thomas was the first person I saw when I entered. His eyes were red-rimmed but dry. Riley stood beside him, dressed in black as if she'd been planning her mourning outfit for days.

"Claire," Thomas nodded stiffly. "You're late."

"Traffic," I said, though it wasn't true. I'd actually sat in my car for fifteen minutes, preparing myself.

Nathan appeared from the kitchen, offering me a small, sad smile. "Jessica's upstairs with Michael. Alexander's in the study."

I nodded, grateful for his update. "Let's get this over with."

Once everyone was gathered in the dining room, I cleared my throat. "I think we should hold the funeral in France. Father died there, and the logistics of—"

"Absolutely not," Thomas interrupted sharply. "Father will be brought home and buried here, where he belongs."

I'd expected this reaction. "That will be complicated."



"I don't care," Thomas's voice rose slightly. "We'll have a private service here at the estate, then a public memorial. And he'll be buried next to Amy."

Amy Walker had been my father's first wife, Thomas and Hannah's mother.

"Fine," I said simply.

Thomas blinked, clearly thrown by my immediate agreement. He'd been ready for an argument. "Fine?"

"Yes, Thomas. I think that's appropriate."

Jessica shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against the polished wood table. "What about Chloe?" she asked, voicing the question everyone had been avoiding. "Will she try to claim anything?"

"That's been handled," I said firmly, ending that line of discussion before it started.

After the meeting broke up, Thomas approached me in the hallway. "Thank you," he said stiffly. "For agreeing about the funeral arrangements."

I smiled thinly. "I have two conditions."

His expression hardened. "Of course you do."

"Hannah comes back for the funeral and returns to Vietnam immediately afterward."

"And?"

"You give the thank-you address at the service."

Thomas studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Done."

"The company can't handle drama right now," I said quietly. "With Father gone, we need to present a united front."

"I understand," Thomas said. "It's what Mother would have wanted. And I'll make sure Hannah doesn't cause problems."

I found Margaret later that evening, sitting alone in the garden. She looked up as I approached, her face carefully neutral.

"Thomas wants Father buried next to Amy," I told her, sitting on the bench beside her.

She nodded slowly. "I expected that."

"I agreed to it."

Margaret raised an eyebrow. "That was generous of you."

"It wasn't generosity," I said honestly. "Thomas and I made a deal."

She didn't ask for details, and I didn't offer them. We sat in silence for several minutes before she spoke again.

"He wasn't a perfect man," she said softly. "But he was exceptional in many ways."

I couldn't argue with that.

The funeral took place over a month later. Father's body was flown back from France, brought to the estate, then transported to the memorial hall. The whole affair became a PR event, with business associates, politicians, and celebrities all coming to pay their respects. I read the list of condolences, and Thomas gave the address, just as we'd agreed.

By the end of it all, there was no question about who would take over. The crown had been passed, not with fanfare, but with the quiet efficiency that had always characterized my father's business dealings.

In January, Jessica came to my office to discuss Father's will. He'd left her several properties and investment bonds, along with a 5% stake in the company for baby Michael.

"I'd like to buy 3% of Michael's shares," I told her. "At well above market value. The remaining 2% will be enough for a board seat when he's older. I'll establish a trust fund for him with the proceeds."

Jessica twisted her wedding ring, her eyes calculating. "I'll need to think about it."

"Of course," I smiled pleasantly. "Take all the time you need."

She left quickly after that, and I wasn't surprised when she called a week later to decline my offer. Her lawyer had advised against it, she said. I accepted her decision with grace, but made a mental note to revisit the issue in a few years.

That night, I went straight to Daniel's arms when I got home to my Queen Anne Heights apartment. He held me tightly, his hand stroking my hair.

"You've lost weight," he murmured against my temple.

"It's been a busy month."

He guided me to the sofa, pulling me down beside him. "How are you really doing?"

I sighed, resting my head on his shoulder. "I wanted to retire before forty. That's not going to happen now."

Daniel's thumb traced small circles on my palm. "Why not?"

"Father arranged Michael's 5% perfectly. It's just enough for a board seat, nothing more." I laughed softly, but there was no humor in it. "My father's final lesson: 'To struggle with men is happiness itself.'"

Daniel didn't offer empty reassurances or solutions. He simply held me, providing the silent support I needed most.