Chapter 141 The seed of doubt

Chapter 141 The seed of doubt

~CLAIRE'S POV~

The VIP suite at St. Jude's was pretty quiet, just the steady beep of the cardiac monitor breaking the silence.

I stood by the bed, smoothing the wrinkles from my mother's blanket. She looked peaceful in her sleep, the color slowly returning to her cheeks. 

The doctors said the worst was over. She just needed rest.

I walked to the en-suite bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, watching droplets roll down my skin.

"Focus on your family," Alexander had said. "I'll handle the company. I will handle the war."

I knew he was still recovering. I knew his stitches were likely pulling every time he moved. I hated leaving everything to him, but I also knew Alexander Hayes was made of iron. 

He was fighting for us. For me. And for the secret I was carrying.

My hand drifted to my stomach. Flat. Unchanged. But I knew what was there. A small, private smile touched my lips. 

"We're going to be okay," I whispered to the mirror.

I dried my face and stepped back out into the room.

I froze halfway to the chair.

Someone was standing next to my mother's bed. A woman in a charcoal Chanel suit, her pose stiff, her gloved hand hovering over the railing.

"Eleanor," I said, the name tasting like ash.

Richard's mother looked up. Her face was perfectly made up, not a hair out of place, but the lines around her mouth were deeper than I remembered. 

She gave me a weak, forced smile.

"Hello, Claire. It's... good to see you."

"What are you doing here?" My voice was low, protective. I moved between her and my mother. "How did you even know she was here?"

"Word gets around," Eleanor said softly. "New York is a small town for people like us."

"People like us?" I let out a dry laugh. "We aren't 'people like us,' Eleanor. I cut ties with your family. I built a wall."

"I know." She looked down at my mother. "I brought flowers. Lilies. Does she still love them?"

She gave a sign to a crystal vase on the side table filled with white lilies.

"Please," I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Don't tell me you came for a social call. You hate this woman. I seem to remember you calling her a 'greedy bitch who sold her daughter for status' at my wedding rehearsal."

Eleanor didn't flinch. "I said a lot of things in the past. We all did."

"Some of us meant them," I countered. "State your business, Eleanor. Or I am calling security."

"I came to check on them," she insisted. "This family was... once my family too. But mostly, I came to talk to you. In person. Without your bodyguards."

I arched a brow. It was strange seeing the Matriarch of the Blackwood estate standing here, looking... reduced. Her empire was crumbling. Her son was deposed. 

Her daughter-in-law was a fugitive. And yet, here she was.

I was curious. And honestly, a little bored with the silence.

"Sit," I said, gesturing to the plush seating area Alexander had arranged in the corner of the suite. 

"You have five minutes."

Eleanor sat down with skillful elegance, but I noticed the twitching in her hands before she hid them beneath her silk scarf. The news about Richard and Monica had taken a toll. 

She looked brittle. Like glass waiting to shatter.

I sat opposite her, keeping my posture straight. "Say what you came to say."

Eleanor cleared her throat. "Richard hasn't been home for five days."

"He's a grown man," I said. "He's obviously not hiding here."

"I know he isn't here," she said quickly. "But things are... things are not looking good, Claire. His accounts are frozen. The board has ousted him. He is wandering out there with nothing. I'm worried. This failure... It's all new to him. He doesn't know how to handle loss."

"I understand," I said cold-bloodedly. "That was how I felt when your son tossed divorce papers at me in a hospital bed while I was recovering from surgery. Loss felt very strange and new to me, too."

Eleanor looked at me, her eyes pleading. "Claire..."

"I am not here to cry about Richard," I cut her off. 

"If he's missing, call the police. If he's broke, send him a check. Why are you telling me?"

"Because I want you to stop," she whispered.

I shifted in my seat. "Stop what?"

"Stop destroying him. I know you're angry. You have every right to be. But Richard... he wasn't himself. Monica was drugging him. You saw the reports. He wasn't in his right mind when he hurt you."

She leaned forward, her eyes wet.

"If Richard had been clear-headed... if he hadn't been poisoned by that snake... he never would have treated you that way. He still loves you, Claire. Deep down, he does."

I stared at her in disbelief. She was rewriting history. She was trying to scrub the blood off his hands.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," I said, my voice shaking with suppressed rage. "Because it seems like you've forgotten the hell I went through. Richard neglected me long before Monica gave him a pill. He made me feel small. He made me feel worthless."

I stood up.

"If Richard is going through a rough patch, it's because he deserves it. It's karma, Eleanor. Accept it."

Eleanor stood too. The fragility vanished, replaced by the steel I remembered.

"I won't let Alexander destroy my son," she snapped. "I won't let him burn the Blackwood name to ash just to satisfy a vendetta."

"You can't stop him," I said. "And neither can I. Alexander wins. That's what he does."

"Can't I?" Eleanor smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. It was the smile of a woman who knew where the skeletons were buried.

"Tell me, Claire," she said softly. "What do you really know about Alexander Hayes? Apart from the things he chooses to show you?"

My stomach tightened. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means Alexander is not all he seems." She stepped closer, invading my space. "You see the hero. The savior who picked you up. But do you know how he built that empire? Do you know what he did to get that seed money? Do you know why his father....my husband....refused to acknowledge him until the day he died?"

"He was a self-made man," I defended, but my voice lacked conviction.

"He is a ruthless man," Eleanor corrected. "And he has secrets, Claire. Dark ones. After all... I was the one who introduced you to my dear stepson at the gala all those years ago. I know exactly what he is capable of."

I looked at her. I knew she was manipulating me. I knew she would say anything to save Richard's skin.

But the seed was planted.

David had warned me. Monica had warned me. And now Eleanor.

"Is this one of your tricks again, Eleanor?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. "Trying to poison me against him?"

Eleanor leaned in close, her perfume cloying and heavy.

"You know I'm right," she whispered. "Your eyes are betraying you, Claire. You have doubts. I can see them."

She pulled back, adjusting her scarf.

"If Alexander dares to hurt Richard... if he touches a hair on his head... I won't hesitate. I will use the information I have. I will bring Alexander down, and I will make sure the whole world knows where he came from."

She walked to the door, pausing with her hand on the frame.

"Trust me," she said, looking back at me. "It won't be a pleasant walk down memory lane for him. Or for you."

She left.

I stood alone in the quiet room, the cardiac monitor beeping a continuous beat behind me. I looked at the lilies on the table.

I knew I shouldn't be shaken. I knew Eleanor was an enemy. But as I stood there, touching my stomach, I couldn't help but wonder.

What didn't I know about the father of my child?