Chapter 3
On the other end of the line, Andrew's breathing was heavy and ragged. He sounded like a dying beast. He didn't speak. The breaths just went on, filling the silence with something worse than words.
After what felt like forever, Andrew finally found his voice—dry and hoarse. "Where are you?"
I didn't say a word. I picked up my coffee cup and took a sip.
He asked again, "Why?"
I still didn't say a word. My silence made him more afraid than any accusation ever could.
He was really starting to freak out.
"Look. We can talk about the money, okay? Just come back home. Let's work this out together.
"Claire, I know I screwed up. I was a bastard yesterday. I never should've hurt you. Just come back, and I'll say sorry to you in front of everyone, I swear.
"I'm begging you, please," Andrew said.
He actually said, "I'm begging you."
Wasn't that pathetic?
Back then, when Andrew ordered his bodyguards to slap me, I wanted to beg. But I knew it was pointless. So I kept my mouth shut. Not a single word came out of me.
Now it was his turn.
I picked up the phone, let out a slow breath into the mic, and ended the call.
My phone started ringing again right away. I just turned it off.
Finally, some peace and quiet.
"Ms. Sinclair, he'll probably head to your parents' place next," Jenny said.
I just nodded. "It's okay. My dad knows exactly what to do."
Just as I expected, Andrew showed up.
He sped down the road in his Maybach, like a black streak of lightning, and arrived at my parents' sprawling estate in the suburbs.
He thought I was just some spoiled rich girl who'd run away from home. He thought that if he could win over my parents, he could make me come crawling back.
He didn't know me at all. And he was even more clueless about the kind of family I came from.
My dad, Richard Sinclair, was the founder of Summit Equity Group.
He was in the kitchen, making coffee himself. When Andrew burst in, my dad didn't even bother to look up.
"Richard!" Andrew called out, rushing over, sweat pouring down his face, looking desperate. "Where's Claire? Is she here? She took all my company's money! Please, you have to talk some sense into her!"
My dad slowly set down the coffee pot, his tone cool and detached. "Your company?"
Andrew was at a loss for words. "It's our company, I mean, but..."
"But?" my dad cut him off, sliding a mug of coffee across the table.
"That 1.3 billion dollars was Claire's personal trust fund, set up before she even married you.
"You swore you'd double it in three years. That's the only reason I let her invest it with you. Now, she's just taking back what was always hers."
Andrew's face went completely pale. "You can't do this! If the company goes under, it's bad for you too! Claire gets nothing out of this either!"
He was clutching at straws now. "We're husband and wife, aren't we? Doesn't that mean everything I have is hers too?"
Richard finally looked up, meeting Andrew's eyes head-on, cold and direct.
"Claire called me last night. She told me that at your company anniversary party, your bodyguards slapped her six times."
My dad's tone was calm, but every word hit Andrew like a sledgehammer. "You made her apologize to Monica Summers."
Andrew swayed, almost losing his balance. "I was just drunk. I didn't mean any of it."
"Drunk?" My dad snorted. "Claire is my daughter. I've never laid a finger on her. Not even once. Who do you think you are?"
He slammed the mug down on the table. Coffee splashed everywhere.
"My lawyers will be in touch about the divorce. As for the company..."
My dad stood up, walked over to Andrew, and gave Andrew a light pat on the shoulder. His touch was gentle, but his words hit like a ton of bricks.
"That's your mess now. My daughter has nothing to do with it anymore. Now get out."
The guards escorted Andrew out. He stood at the mansion gates, utterly defeated, and watched as they slowly closed.
That was it. His last hope was crushed.
He had no idea that this was just the beginning.
Later, my dad called me. "He's gone now."
"Yeah," I answered.
"So, what's our next move?" my dad asked.
I gazed out at the ocean view, my voice calm and detached. "He thinks I just pulled the plug on him. Tell Mr. Parker to move on to the next step. I want to make sure he's got nothing left."
Andrew returned to his luxury mansion by the river.
His mansion was still his. It was the only comfort he had left.
What he didn't realize was that the buyer was already waiting in the wings.
He thought he'd only lost his money. But he was about to find out that he'd lost everything.
Including the very core technologies he built his whole life around—everything he depended on to survive.