Chapter 6 - The Poison in the Glass
The news of the scandal hit the global markets like a tidal wave. Headlines across the country splashed the news: DEAD HEIRESS ALIVE: VANCE ENTERPRISE FRAUD UNCOVERED.
While the legal battles raged in the federal courts, Andrew moved Clara and the boys away from the city to their secluded oceanfront estate in Maine—a place Victoria had never visited, a sanctuary surrounded by high cliffs and private security.
For two weeks, the world outside ceased to exist for Andrew. He spent every hour helping Clara reclaim her life. They walked along the rocky beach, holding hands as the cold waves crashed against the shore, watching Leo and Toby build sandcastles in the sun.
Yet, despite the safety, Clara remained jumpy. She flinched at sudden noises, kept her back to the wall in every room, and rarely slept more than two hours at a time without waking up screaming from nightmares of burning timber and dark vans.
"It takes time, darling," Dr. Mercer assured Andrew during a private consultation on the veranda. "The psychological trauma of being gaslit and threatened for four years doesn't vanish overnight. She needs absolute stability."
"Is she safe physically?" Andrew asked, watching Clara sitting on a blanket near the grass, reading a book to the twins.
"Physically, her body is recovering," Mercer replied. "Her bloodwork from the clinic showed high levels of long-term neurotoxins—drugs meant to cause mental confusion and memory degradation. We are slowly flushing them from her system. But Andrew... you must be vigilant. Victoria and Harrison may be behind bars, but their financial network was vast. There are contractors, private security operatives who were paid off-grid who might still be active."
Mercer's warning proved prescient sooner than anyone expected.
That evening, as the house settled into silence, Andrew walked into the kitchen to prepare a warm chamomile tea for Clara. The estate's kitchen staff had been thoroughly vetted by Marcus, but Andrew insisted on preparing Clara's food and drinks himself.
As he reached for the kettle, he noticed something unusual. The seal on the fresh tin of organic lavender tea—Clara's favorite—was slightly torn.
Andrew paused. He was a man trained to notice details. He picked up the tin, smelling the dried leaves inside. Mixed with the fragrant floral scent was a faint, metallic odor—like crushed almonds.
Cyanide.
Andrew’s blood ran cold. He slammed the tin shut. "Marcus!"
Marcus bolted into the kitchen, his hand instantly going to his sidearm. "Sir?"
"Lock down the kitchen staff immediately," Andrew commanded, his voice trembling with fury. "Someone tampered with this tea. Who had access to the delivery boxes brought in this afternoon?"
"Only the local supply vendor," Marcus said, his face darkening. "We checked the driver's credentials at the gate—"
"Check them again!" Andrew yelled. "Check every person who has touched a box, a vehicle, or a piece of mail coming into this property!"
Ten minutes later, Marcus returned to the study, his face grim. "The regular delivery driver was found bound and gagged in a ditch two miles outside the estate. The man who drove the truck onto the property was an imposter using his uniform."
Andrew slammed his fist onto his desk, shattering a glass paperweight. "They're still coming for her. Even from prison, Harrison is trying to finish what he started!"
"Not Harrison," Clara’s quiet voice echoed from the hallway.
May you like
She stepped into the room, holding an old leather notebook she had found inside Victoria's confiscated vanity case.
"It wasn't Harrison who ordered the fire at Pine Crest," Clara said, her green eyes cold and clear. "Harrison was greedy, but he was a coward. He only wanted the money. The person who wanted me dead... the person who hired the arsonist four years ago... was Victoria's mother."
