Chapter 7
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the living room as Julian and Clara shared a quiet lunch prepared by Dr. Reed’s dietary nutritionist. The peace of the penthouse was a stark contrast to the storm raging outside in the financial district. Just as Julian was pouring a fresh cup of tea for Clara, the secure private elevator chime rang out again.
Julian frowned, stepping over to the monitor. Expecting to see Marcus still lingering in the lobby, he was surprised to see Dr. Harrison standing alone before the camera. The older man no longer wore his pristine white coat; instead, he wore a simple tweed jacket, looking tired and diminished without the trappings of his institutional authority.
“Julian,” Harrison said into the intercom, his voice lacking its usual clinical arrogance. “I know you have no reason to trust me. But I need to speak with you about Clara’s medical records and what was really happening inside that estate.”
Julian looked back at Clara, who had gone pale at the sight of the doctor who had watched her torture with clinical detachment. Julian pressed the talk button, his voice icy. “You traded your medical ethics for a pension fund and my mother’s protection, Harrison. You have nothing to say that I want to hear.”
“It’s not about your mother, Julian. It’s about Clara’s health—and something Eleanor hid from both of you regarding her medical history,” Harrison urged, his hands trembling slightly on the camera lens. “If you don’t hear me out, you might regret it before the baby is born.”
Clara stood up slowly, walking over to Julian. She touched his arm, her dark eyes filled with cautious resolve. “Let him in, Julian. I want to hear what lies they were telling about me behind closed doors.”
Julian hesitated, then pressed the override button, unlocking the private elevator. A minute later, the glass doors slid open, and Dr. Harrison stepped into the penthouse, looking remarkably small and out of place among the minimalist luxury. He kept his hands visible, holding a thick manila folder against his chest.
“Sit down, Harrison,” Julian ordered, gesturing to a single chair near the entrance while standing protectively between the doctor and Clara. “And make it quick.”
Harrison swallowed hard, sitting down on the edge of the chair and placing the manila folder on the glass coffee table. He looked up at Clara with genuine remorse. “I’m sorry, Clara. I was trapped in a system I couldn't escape without losing everything I spent forty years building. But when I saw your husband break through those doors yesterday, I realized the dynasty was already dead.”
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“Get to the point,” Julian warned, his hand resting inside his jacket.
Harrison opened the folder, sliding a series of medical charts across the table. “Eleanor didn't just want Clara humiliated. She knew something about Clara’s rare blood type and family history from a confidential genetic profile the estate ran when you first married, Julian. Your mother... she was planning to use this pregnancy to secure a legal guardianship over the child under the pretext of maternal instability.”
