Chapter 7 - Bloodlines and Betrayal
Through the dead of night, Clara stayed at Edward’s bedside, feeding him sips of clean bottled water from her coat pocket. Slowly, the paralysis that had clamped down on his limbs began to recede as the poison flushed from his bloodstream.
""Why didn't you wake up sooner?"" Clara asked softly, rubbing warmth back into his stiff calves.
""They kept me in a chemical fog,"" Edward rasped, his speech clearer with every passing hour. ""Curare derivatives. Paralyzes the motor functions while leaving sensory perception wide open. I heard everything. Every insult. Every plot Richard whispered above my bed.""
He looked at her, his green eyes searching her worn face, taking in the bruised skin where Richard had pulled her hair. ""You could have taken Richard's money and walked away at the altar.""
Clara gave a faint, self-deprecating smile. ""My father died in a state hospital bed while his business partners divided his life’s work. I know what it looks like when hyenas circle a wounded lion. I couldn't let them laugh at you.""
Edward reached out, his hand steadier now, and brushed his thumb against the smudge of soot on her cheek. For the first time in six months, a ghost of a genuine smile touched his mouth. ""You're stronger than any boardroom executive I’ve ever met, Clara.""
Suddenly, the grandfather clock in the main hall chimed five times.
Sunrise.
Outside the frosted window, headlights swept across the lawn. Not one car, but a motorcade of black executive sedans. The gravel crunched under dozens of tires.
""The board of directors,"" Edward muttered, pulling the IV line cleanly from his arm without flinching. ""Richard called an emergency dawn meeting to announce my death and assume full ownership.""
Heavy footsteps thumped down the hallway. Keys jingled against the brass lock.
""Get behind the bed,"" Edward commanded in a quiet, authoritative tone. ""Let them walk in.""
The heavy door flew open. Richard stepped inside, flanked by Dr. Alan and three private security guards holding drawn sidearms.
""Time's up, little bird,"" Richard announced with a triumphant sneer. ""Doctor, certify the death so we can sign the takeover.""
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Then Richard’s eyes shifted to the empty gurney.
Edward Kane was standing on his own two feet by the window, fully dressed in his black wedding tuxedo, fixing his cufflinks.
