Chapter 68 The Meeting
Harper's phone buzzed at two in the morning.
Unknown number. A text message that made her blood run cold.
"I want to talk. Just you. Tomorrow, 2 PM, the coffee shop where you first met James Hartwell. Come alone or Sebastian gets the recording of what Marcus really said during that wire operation. The parts Morrison edited out. The parts that prove Sebastian orchestrated everything. Claire."
Harper stared at the message, her heart racing. Beside her, Sebastian slept fitfully, still recovering from the gunshot wound. She could wake him, show him the text, and follow protocol.
Or she could handle this herself.
Claire wanted to meet. Wanted to talk to Harper alone. This could be the opportunity they needed,a chance to get Claire to confess without the suspicion that had doomed the Marcus operation.
Harper took a screenshot of the message and sent it to Detective Morrison with a note: "Responding to this. Will wear wire. Have backup ready but keep distance. She doesn't know you're there."
Morrison's response came within minutes: "Absolutely not. Too dangerous. We'll set up a formal meeting with protection."
"She'll never agree to that. This is our chance. I'm doing it."
"Harper, this is not your decision to make."
But Harper was already planning. She'd wear a wire. Morrison could position teams nearby. She'd meet Claire in a public place with witnesses. It would be safe enough.
And she wouldn't tell Sebastian until after it was done.
The next morning, Sebastian was distracted by calls from his lawyer about pretrial motions. He barely noticed when Harper said she was going to check on the Adriatic renovation.
"Want me to come with you?" he asked, phone pressed to his ear.
"No, it's just paint color approvals. Boring stuff. I'll be back by dinner."
She hated lying to him. But Sebastian would never agree to let her meet Claire alone. He'd insist on handling it himself or canceling entirely.
This was Harper's chance to protect him for once. To be the one taking the risk.
At one PM, she met Morrison's tech team at a safe house. They outfitted her with a wire and a panic button disguised as a bracelet.
"Press this and we're through the door in thirty seconds," the technician said. "Don't hesitate if you feel threatened."
"I won't."
Morrison pulled her aside. "Harper, I strongly advise against this. Claire is unstable and violent. She shot her own brother."
"Which is why we need her confession on record. Without the duress defense. Without the ability to claim police coercion." Harper kept her voice firm. "I can do this."
"Sebastian is going to kill me when he finds out I let you."
"Sebastian doesn't need to know until it's over and we have what we need."
The coffee shop was crowded with the lunch rush tapering off. Harper chose a table by the window where Morrison's team could maintain visual contact. Her hand went to her stomach, a protective gesture she couldn't suppress.
The baby was active today. As if sensing her mother's anxiety.
At exactly two PM, Claire walked through the door.
She looked terrible. Pale and thin, moving carefully like her injuries still hurt. The ankle monitor was visible above her shoe. But her eyes were sharp, calculating.
"Harper," Claire said, sitting across from her. "Thank you for coming."
"You didn't give me much choice. What recording are you talking about?"
"The one where Marcus admits Sebastian sent him to trap me. Where he laughs about how gullible I'd be. Where he and Sebastian discuss exactly how to manipulate me into confessing." Claire pulled out her phone. "Want to hear it?"
Harper's stomach dropped. "That's not possible. Morrison monitored the entire operation."
"Morrison monitored what Sebastian allowed him to monitor. But Marcus had his own recording device. Insurance, he called it. And he sent me a copy before Sebastian could silence him."
Claire played a clip. Marcus's voice, clear and unmistakable: "She'll never see it coming. Claire thinks she's so smart but she has no idea we're playing her."
Then Sebastian's voice: "Make sure you emphasize the perjury angle. Make it sound appealing. Get her to agree to something illegal."
Harper felt sick. "That's edited. Taken out of context."
"Is it? Or did your husband manipulate everyone, including you, into thinking he's the victim?" Claire leaned forward. "Harper, I didn't ask you here to threaten you. I asked you here to warn you."
"Warn me about what?"
"About who you married. What he's capable of. What he'll do to win." Claire's voice was almost gentle. "I spent five years trying to destroy Sebastian. But Harper, I was trying to destroy a monster. Someone who uses people and discards them. Someone exactly like our father."
"That's not true. Sebastian is nothing like your father."
"Isn't he? He proposed a contract marriage to solve a business problem. He paid you millions to play a role. He's orchestrated every move to ensure he keeps control of his company and his reputation." Claire's eyes were sad. "You're just another transaction to him. A particularly effective one because you believe you're loved."
Harper's hand tightened on the table. "You're wrong."
"Am I? Harper, ask yourself honestly: would Sebastian have chosen you without the contract? Would he have pursued you if there was nothing in it for him?"
The question echoed Vanessa's warnings from months ago. Harper had thought she'd moved past those doubts. But hearing them from Claire made them resurface with brutal clarity.
"He loves me," Harper said, but her voice wavered.
"He loves that you make him look stable. That you're pregnant with an heir. That you defend him to boards and police and anyone who questions him." Claire pulled out a folder. "But Harper, love doesn't require contracts and wire operations and manipulation. Love is simple. And nothing about your relationship with Sebastian has been simple."
Harper wanted to argue, to defend Sebastian, to walk away. But something kept her rooted to the chair.
"What's in the folder?"
Claire slid it across the table. "Evidence. Real evidence, not manufactured. Documents showing Sebastian knew about Morrison's embezzlement for years. That he allowed it to continue because it gave him leverage over board members. That he used that leverage to maintain his position as CEO."
"I don't believe you."
"Look at the documents. Check the dates, the signatures, the financial trails. It's all there." Claire leaned back. "Harper, I'm going to prison. I know that. I shot my brother and I'll pay for it. But before I do, I need you to understand what you're protecting. Who you're protecting."
Harper opened the folder with shaking hands. Inside were financial documents, emails, transaction records. All showing Sebastian's signature. All dated years before Harper met him.
If these were real, they showed Sebastian knew Morrison was stealing. That he'd covered it up. That he'd used the embezzlement as blackmail.
"These could be forged," Harper said.
"They could be. But they're not. Have them authenticated. Use an independent forensic accountant. You'll see I'm telling the truth."
Harper's mind raced. This could be another manipulation. Another attempt to drive a wedge between her and Sebastian.
Or it could be the truth she'd been avoiding.
"Why show me this?" Harper asked. "What do you want?"
"I want you to testify honestly at my trial. Tell the jury that Sebastian manipulated you into marriage. That he used your financial desperation against you. That everything I did was trying to protect you from a predator."
"You weren't protecting me. You were trying to destroy Sebastian."
"Both can be true." Claire's voice was calm. "Harper, I did terrible things. I won't deny that. But my methods don't change the truth about Sebastian. He's dangerous. Controlling. Exactly like the father who destroyed our family."
Harper stood abruptly. "I need to go."
"Take the documents. Check them. Then decide who's telling the truth." Claire remained seated. "And Harper? When you give birth to that baby, ask yourself if you want to raise a child with a man who's spent his entire life manipulating everyone around him. Including you."
Harper grabbed the folder and walked out.
In her car, she sat shaking, the documents on her lap. Morrison's voice crackled through the wire.
"Did you get what you needed?"
"I don't know what I got. Evidence against Sebastian. Or another manipulation from Claire."
"Bring the documents to us. We'll authenticate them."
Harper started the car but didn't drive to Morrison's office. Instead, she drove to the Adriatic. To the one place that had always made sense when nothing else did.
In her aunt's old office, Harper spread the documents across the desk. Examined signatures. Checked dates. Cross-referenced transaction numbers.
Everything looked authentic.
Which meant either Claire had gotten very good at forgery.
Or Sebastian had been lying to her all along.
Harper's phone buzzed. Sebastian called.
"Hey, where are you? Morrison just called me. Said you met with Claire against his orders and my explicit wishes not to do anything without telling me first."
Harper looked at the documents. At the evidence that might prove everything Claire said was true.
"I'm at the Adriatic. Can you come here? We need to talk."
"Harper, what did Claire say to you?"
"Just come. Please."
She hung up before he could argue.
Thirty minutes later, Sebastian arrived. He took one look at the documents spread across the desk and went pale.
"Where did you get those?"
"Claire gave them to me. She says they prove you knew about Morrison's embezzlement. That you covered it up and used it as blackmail."
Sebastian picked up one of the documents. His hands were shaking.
"Harper, I can explain."
And with those four words, Harper's world shattered.
Because innocent people didn't need to explain.
They denied.
They defended.
They didn't stand there looking guilty and say they could explain.
"It's true," Harper whispered. "Everything Claire said. It's all true."
Sebastian's silence was confirmation enough.
Harper felt the baby kick, as if protesting the truth both of them were about to face.
The truth that would change everything.
Again.