Chapter 194

Chapter 194
Claire's POV

I watched Daniel's face as Father mentioned Hannah, searching for any sign of judgment. The tension in the room felt suffocating despite the high ceilings and open windows. Daniel just nodded politely, clearly not wanting to pry into family matters he didn't understand.

"Okay," I agreed softly, unable to meet Daniel's questioning eyes.

Father set the small pruning scissors down and leaned back in his wheelchair. "Claire," he said, his voice suddenly serious. "Remember this: never say absolute things, and never do anything that cannot be undone."

The abrupt shift in conversation caught me off guard. "What do you mean?"

"Hannah." He sighed, tapping his fingers on the armrest. "She made absolute statements. Told Thomas he was incompetent. Called Alexander useless. Announced to the entire board she'd never work with either of them again." His eyes locked with mine, sharp despite his weakened state. "Now she's stuck in Vietnam because she can't take back her words."

I understood then. Father hadn't sent Hannah to Vietnam just as punishment. He'd done it to protect her from me—from whatever I might have done in my anger.

"I understand," I said quietly.

"Do you?" He tilted his head, studying me. "Hannah is foolish, but she's still my daughter. Just as you are."

The hidden message was clear: he knew exactly how furious I'd been when Hannah betrayed the company. He knew what I was capable of.

Daniel cleared his throat awkwardly, and Father turned his attention to him, effectively ending our private conversation.

"I need you to attend a wedding next month," Father said, shifting topics with practiced ease. "Cody McAllister's youngest daughter is getting married. His daughter Lauren is marrying a young man with close ties to the Pierce family." Father's eyes gleamed with something that looked like amusement. "Richard might be there."

My stomach tightened. "And you want me to go? With Daniel?"

"Of course." Father waved his hand dismissively. "You're married now, aren't you?"

I froze, my hand automatically touching the chain beneath my blouse. "How did you—"

"Please." Father snorted. "I've been running businesses longer than you've been alive. You think I don't notice a wedding band?"

Daniel looked down, a flush creeping up his neck.

"It's fine," Father continued, surprising me. "Might even be good for business. McAllister has sold off all his overseas operations, did you know that?"

"Yes," I replied, understanding what he wasn't saying. McAllister was consolidating his American interests—possibly because he knew something about international markets that we should be aware of. "The wedding will be a good opportunity to talk to him."

"Smart girl." Father's lips curved into a rare smile. "You always were."

"I learned from you," I said, and meant it.

Father chuckled. "Ah, you. Always knew what to say."

I laughed too, recognizing our strange dance. We understood each other in ways no one else did—not even Daniel.

Chloe appeared in the doorway. "Dinner is ready, Mr. Stanton."

"Excellent. I'm starving." Father gestured for me to push his wheelchair. "We have a chef here who makes the most incredible bouillabaisse. You like seafood, Daniel?"

"Yes, sir," Daniel replied.

"Good." Father nodded approvingly. "No allergies?"

"No, sir."

"Perfect."

I watched, stunned, as Father asked Daniel basic questions about food preferences but nothing about his background, education, or career. Six months ago, he would have grilled Daniel mercilessly about his family, his finances, his ambitions. The difference was stark.

And then I understood: now that I was officially his heir, he didn't care who I married. Before, when he was trying to use me for political alliances, my marriage mattered. Now that I had proven myself capable of running the company, I could marry whoever I wanted.

Dinner passed pleasantly, with Father telling stories of his early business days. When we finished, he surprised me again.

"Daniel, do you play chess?"

Daniel nodded. "Yes, I do."

"Good. Let's have a game while Claire helps Chloe with dessert."

I raised an eyebrow but followed Chloe to the kitchen while Father and Daniel settled at the chessboard in the corner of the dining room.

In the kitchen, I watched Chloe arrange delicate fruit tarts on small plates.

"Thank you for taking care of him," I said.

Chloe looked up, her expression soft. "It's my job, Ms. Stanton."

"Claire. Please call me Claire." I leaned against the counter. "And we both know you go beyond your job description."

Her cheeks flushed slightly. "Your father is a remarkable man."

I studied her—young, pretty, genuinely caring. Not at all the gold-digger I'd expected. "You really care about him, don't you?"

"Yes," she admitted, her voice quiet but firm. "He's given me opportunities no one else would. He sees me as more than just a nurse."

"I'm sure he does," I murmured, thinking of the gifts he'd given her.

"It's not what you think," she said, meeting my eyes directly. "He's teaching me about business. Helping me apply to business school. He believes in me."

I was surprised by the sincerity in her voice. "And the other benefits? The gifts?"

She shrugged, not embarrassed. "He's generous. That's who he is. But what matters to me is his respect, his mentorship."

"And when he dies?" I asked bluntly. "Don't you think you'll regret spending your youth with a dying man?"

Her eyes flashed. "We all die, Claire. The question is whether we lived meaningfully before that happens."

I was taken aback by her philosophical response. "Do you really not regret anything? Being here instead of with someone your own age?"

Chloe looked past me, toward the dining room where Father and Daniel were engrossed in their chess match. "Some people are worth the sacrifice," she said softly. "Don't you agree?"