Chapter 18 - The Other EnemyAlexander arrived in twelve minutes.
Daniel arrived in nine.
By then, police were outside Clara’s building, Noah was wrapped in a blanket, and Clara was standing barefoot in the kitchen holding a rolling pin like a weapon.
Alexander did not comment on the rolling pin.
Good.
Daniel took the photograph.
“This wasn’t taken by Whitmore security,” he said.
Alexander looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“Angle. Equipment. This was long-range surveillance. Professional.”
Clara’s voice was tight.
“Your family has another enemy?”
Alexander’s silence was not comforting.
“Many.”
She stared.
“You were going to let Vivienne send him abroad.”
“I didn’t know about the contract.”
“But you knew enemies existed.”
“Yes.”
“And nobody thought the woman who gave birth to him should know?”
Alexander closed his eyes.
That one landed exactly where it should.
“You’re right.”
“I am so tired of being right after the damage.”
Noah stirred in her arms.
Alexander lowered his voice.
“We need to move you both somewhere secure.”
Clara laughed without humor.
“Back to the mansion full of people who stole him?”
“No.”
He looked at Daniel.
“The lake house.”
Daniel nodded.
Clara frowned.
“What lake house?”
Alexander looked at her.
“My father’s. Not in Blackwood corporate records. My mother hates it.”
“That recommends it.”
They left before dawn.
The lake house was nothing like the manor.
Wooden porch.
Old dock.
Pine trees.
A kitchen with chipped blue tiles.
Family photographs from before Beatrice became a dynasty in pearls.
Alexander looked different there.
Less like a man performing control.
More like someone returning to the last place he had been young.
Noah loved it immediately.
“Water!”
“Not alone,” Clara and Alexander said together.
They looked at each other.
For half a second, they were simply parents.
Daniel set up security.
Marisol arrived with supplies.
The attorneys worked remotely.
Then Daniel found the match.
The surveillance photo had a watermark hidden in the corner.
A private investigator named Lyle Mercer.
Hired by a shell company connected not to Whitmore.
To Blackwood Legacy Partners.
Alexander stared at the report.
“My board.”
Clara sat across from him at the kitchen table.
“Your company watched your son?”
“The trust controls voting power. If Noah’s custody changes, future control changes. If scandal damages me, the board can force restructuring.”
Clara understood enough.
“Noah is money to them.”
Alexander’s face hardened.
“To them.”
“And to you?”
He looked at her.
“To me, he is the little boy currently trying to feed cereal to a wooden duck.”
Despite herself, Clara glanced over.
Noah was indeed feeding cereal to a decorative duck.
Her anger did not vanish.
But it had to move aside for the absurdity of motherhood.
Alexander’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A man’s voice spoke calmly.
“Mr. Blackwood, you have a beautiful family problem.”
Alexander put it on speaker.
Clara went still.
The voice continued.
“Withdraw custody concessions to Ms. Hayes. Reinstate your mother’s authority. Announce a private reconciliation with the Whitmore family. Do this, and the board remains loyal.”
Alexander’s face became unreadable.
“And if I don’t?”
“Then the public learns Clara Hayes was paid from a Blackwood account. They won’t care about context. Markets won’t care about truth. Courts move slowly. Perception moves fast.”
Clara’s hands tightened.
Alexander said, “You’re threatening my son.”
“No. We’re protecting the company he will inherit.”
Alexander looked at Noah.
The boy looked up and smiled.
“Daddy, duck hungry.”
Alexander’s voice changed.
Cold.
Final.
“Listen carefully. If you come near my son, his mother, or anyone protecting them, I will burn the company down before I let you use him to control it.”
A pause.
“That would be irrational.”
Alexander looked at Clara.
“No,” he said. “That would be fatherhood.”
He ended the call.
Clara stared at him.
“You’d really do that?”
Alexander’s answer was immediate.
May you like
“Yes.”
For the first time, Clara believed him without wanting proof.
