Chapter 8 - Savannah
They flew private.
Claire hated that she was impressed.
Dominic noticed.
“You can say it.”
“Say what?”
“That this is better than commercial.”
“It’s wasteful.”
“Still better.”
She looked around the leather cabin.
“Fine. Slightly.”
Dominic smiled.
It was the first time she had seen him look almost ordinary.
Then his phone buzzed and the moment disappeared.
Savannah was waiting with heat, rain, and bad news.
Richard had reached Whitmore’s warehouse forty minutes before them.
Security cameras showed him entering with two men.
Nobody saw him leave.
The warehouse manager met Claire near the loading dock.
“Your father called.”
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“What did he say?”
“That you’ve been terminated and have no authority here.”
Claire pulled out Anne’s trust paperwork.
“I own forty-one percent of this company.”
The manager stared.
Dominic said quietly, “You should probably let her inside.”
He did.
Claire went directly to records.
The Savannah dispute made no sense.
A client had withheld nine hundred thousand dollars because of missing customs documentation.
Claire had assumed incompetence.
Now she saw deliberate changes.
Shipping numbers altered.
Weights changed.
Container codes duplicated.
Dominic looked over her shoulder.
“This isn’t accounting fraud.”
“What is it?”
“Someone used Whitmore containers to move product that wasn’t on the manifests.”
Claire looked at him.
“What kind of product?”
“I don’t know.”
“Drugs?”
“Possibly.”
“Weapons?”
“Possibly.”
She stared at the screen.
“My father used the company for smuggling.”
“Or Richard did.”
“Stop protecting him.”
“I’m not.”
“You keep giving him alternatives.”
“Because if you decide Charles murdered your mother before we can prove it, anger will make decisions for you.”
Claire stood.
“You think I’m emotional.”
“I think you’re human.”
She walked away.
Dominic caught her hand.
Not hard.
Just enough to stop her.
“Claire.”
She turned.
His voice softened.
“I am not asking you to forgive him.”
“Then what are you asking?”
“Stay alive long enough to bury him legally.”
Her anger broke.
Not disappeared.
Broke.
She whispered, “I spent fifteen years wondering why I wasn’t enough for him.”
Dominic’s hand loosened.
“You were never the problem.”
“I know that intellectually.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
Claire could feel his breath.
For one dangerous second, the room became quiet.
Then a gunshot cracked through the warehouse.
Dominic shoved Claire down.
Glass exploded.
Marcus shouted from the hall.
“Move!”
Another shot.
Dominic pulled Claire behind a concrete support.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“Stop telling me to stay somewhere while men decide my life.”
Even now, Dominic almost smiled.
“Fine. Stay behind me while we both make bad decisions.”
They moved.
Marcus’s team closed off the east corridor.
A man ran between shelves.
Dominic chased him.
Claire saw another figure near the office.
Richard.
“Richard!”
He froze.
Then ran.
Claire followed.
“Claire!” Dominic shouted.
Too late.
Richard reached the loading bay.
Claire grabbed the back of his jacket.
He spun and struck her.
Pain flashed across her cheek.
Then Dominic hit him like a truck.
Richard crashed into a stack of pallets.
Dominic grabbed his collar.
“Where is Charles?”
Richard laughed through blood on his lip.
“You still don’t understand.”
Claire stepped forward.
“What?”
Richard looked at her.
“Charles isn’t the one running.”
A phone began ringing inside Richard’s pocket.
Dominic removed it.
The screen showed one name.
MADISON.
Claire answered.
Her sister was screaming.
“Claire, help us!”
A man’s voice came over the line.
Charles.
“You wanted the truth?”
Claire stopped breathing.
“Dad?”
“Come home.”
May you like
Then he added:
“Come alone, or Emily dies first.”
