Eleanor Harry.
Her mother.
And someone had wanted her erased.
Sebastian's expression darkened. "Be careful."
Claire frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Now that Olivia told you herself, she must have something up her sleeve. Plus… she's a suspect."
Claire studied him, considering. If he was helping her, shouldn't she also be open with him?
"Let's strike a deal," she said finally. "As long as you're helping me, you'll tell me everything you discover, and I'll do the same."
Sebastian didn't hesitate. "Deal."
Claire exhaled, her mind still racing. "Olivia said my dad died because of me," she admitted. "But the autopsy says otherwise."
Sebastian's gaze sharpened. "What did it say?"
She clenched her fists. "The report said he died of heart failure." But dad seemed fine the day before he couldn't have had a heart failure.
Claire had always harbored suspicions, but she had never given them serious thought. Now, with everything unfolding before her, the cracks in the story were impossible to ignore. It was too much of a coincidence—her father dying just when he might have revealed the truth. Could it be that the same person who murdered her mother had silenced her father as well? But why now?
Leaving the bar with determination, Claire knew she had to confront Olivia. She wasn't sure where to start or how to get the answers she sought, but she couldn't afford to hesitate any longer. Someone knew the truth, and she would find it—one way or another.
When she entered the grand estate, the familiar scent of tobacco filled the air. As expected, Olivia was seated in her usual spot by the side dining area, a cigarette perched elegantly between her fingers. The sight of the woman who had raised her, yet deceived her for years, ignited a storm of emotions within Claire.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward. "Eleanor."
Olivia froze mid-inhale. She hadn't expected Claire to piece things together so quickly. A slow exhale left her lips, the smoke curling around her like a sinister aura. So, the little girl had grown claws. Olivia smirked, masking her unease.
"That's my mother's name, isn't it?" Claire pressed on, her voice trembling slightly. "How did she die? Why did you pretend to be my mother? And my father—was he killed because of me?"
She was fighting to keep her composure, to look Olivia in the eye without breaking down. But the lump in her throat threatened to choke her, and the tears she had stubbornly held back burned at the edges of her vision.
Olivia let out a low chuckle and leaned back in her chair. "Pretend? Oh, darling, I didn't pretend. I raised you. I clothed you, fed you, and gave you a place in my company. And this is how you repay me?" Her voice dripped with mockery, but Claire caught the underlying venom.
Claire clenched her fists. "You never treated me like your daughter," she shot back before she could stop herself. A single tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another, then another, until they were falling freely.
Olivia's eyes darkened as she stood, "Look at you," she sneered. "You used to be grateful. Now, just because you found out I didn't give birth to you, you turn against me?"
Before Claire could react, Olivia's palm struck her face with a sharp slap. The impact sent a sting through her cheek, and she gasped, stumbling slightly.
Tears blurred her vision as she clutched her face. "I was ignorant then," she choked out. "I thought you loved me. But you didn't. You hated me. So why—why did you even bother raising me?"
Olivia's expression twisted with fury. "You wretched little thing." Her voice was like ice. If you no longer value your life, I can easily rid you of it."
She turned slightly and called out, "Antonio!"
A moment later, a tall, muscular man strode into the room. Claire felt her blood run cold. Antonio, the one who carried out her harshest punishments. Every time Claire had suffered at Olivia's hands, Antonio had been there, delivering the pain without question. The moment she heard his name, the fight drained from her limbs, leaving behind only dread.
Antonio approached, his dark eyes void of emotion. Without hesitation, he grabbed Claire by the arm, his grip bruising.
"Thirty strokes," Olivia ordered.
Claire struggled, but Antonio's grip was unyielding. Fear clawed at her throat, but she refused to be silenced. "You'll pay for this, Olivia," she spat, her voice hoarse. "For everything you've done."
Olivia stepped closer, leaning in until her breath ghosted against Claire's ear. Her voice was a whisper laced with malice. "Even your mother couldn't win against me. What makes you think you stand a chance?"
The sudden revelation insinuated something inside of Claire. How dare this woman. Did she think little of her? But now she was going to get beaten. She suddenly felt pure hatred for Olivia