Chapter 8 - The Woman at the Top of the Stairs
The Ashcroft Winter Gala glittered as though the family had never committed a crime.
Christmas trees rose beside marble columns.
Thousands of white lights reflected in chandeliers.
Two hundred guests in tuxedos and evening gowns drank champagne beneath portraits of dead Ashcrofts.
Clare wore pale rose silk.
Nathaniel wore black.
He had tripled security.
Clare noticed.
“You said discreet.”
“It is discreet.”
“There are six men watching the staircase.”
“Eight.”
“Nathaniel.”
“Two are behind the columns.”
She stared at him.
He kissed her forehead.
“Humor me.”
They had been inside sixteen minutes when Victoria arrived.
She crossed the ballroom quickly.
“You shouldn't be here.”
Nathaniel stiffened.
“Did you send the note?”
“No.”
Clare felt cold.
“Then who did?”
A familiar voice came from above.
“Me.”
Eleanor Ashcroft stood at the top of the marble staircase.
Gasps spread across the room.
Nathaniel’s entire body changed.
His mother was supposed to be under house confinement pending trial.
Lucas moved.
Eleanor raised one hand.
“No weapons.”
Men appeared on the upper landing.
Not Nathaniel’s men.
Harrison’s.
And then Harrison Bowmont stepped into view.
Victoria whispered:
“Dad.”
His face hardened.
“You betrayed me.”
Federal agents had not found him because he had never left New York.
He had hidden inside properties held through trusts his daughter did not know existed.
Nathaniel pushed Clare behind him.
Harrison smiled.
“Still protecting the policy analyst.”
Nathaniel’s voice was flat.
“You won't leave this house.”
“Neither will you if you make this difficult.”
Guests began backing away.
Phones appeared.
Harrison’s men shut the ballroom doors.
Eleanor looked at Nathaniel.
“Give Harrison the Meridian drives.”
“They're already with federal prosecutors.”
Her face faltered.
“All of them?”
“Yes.”
“You stupid boy.”
Nathaniel laughed without humor.
“Still trying that.”
Harrison looked toward Clare.
“Then we need leverage.”
Nathaniel moved immediately.
A gun appeared.
Lucas froze.
Harrison pointed it toward Clare.
“Easy.”
Clare could hear Nathaniel breathing.
Very slowly.
Very carefully.
“Nathaniel,” she whispered.
“I'm here.”
Eleanor descended two steps.
“This did not need to become ugly.”
Clare stared at her.
“You pushed your husband down these stairs.”
The ballroom went silent.
Eleanor’s face changed.
“You know nothing about my marriage.”
“I know he tried to stop you.”
“He tried to destroy his son’s inheritance.”
“You mean your control.”
Eleanor’s eyes sharpened.
Nathaniel said:
“Clare.”
Warning.
Too late.
Eleanor descended another step.
“You think carrying his child makes you an Ashcroft?”
“No.”
Clare met her gaze.
“I’m counting on it.”
A few guests gasped.
Eleanor smiled coldly.
“You're temporary.”
Nathaniel answered.
“She is my family.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“You would choose her over blood?”
“I already did.”
That was when Harrison realized Nathaniel would never surrender.
He raised the gun.
Lucas moved.
Everything happened at once.
Victoria screamed.
Nathaniel lunged.
A security man struck Harrison’s arm.
The gun fired into the chandelier.
Glass rained down.
Guests scattered.
Clare stepped backward.
Eleanor grabbed her wrist.
Clare gasped.
“Let go.”
Eleanor pulled.
Nathaniel turned.
“Mother!”
Clare twisted free.
Then Harrison crashed into Nathaniel.
Someone shoved someone.
Bodies crowded the landing.
Clare felt a hand against her shoulder blade.
Hard.
Deliberate.
She lost balance.
Her heel slipped beyond the marble edge.
Her eyes met Nathaniel’s.
He saw the exact instant it happened.
“CLARE!”
She did not fall naturally.
She was pushed.
Her arms closed around her stomach.
The first stair struck her hip.
The second caught her shoulder.
Then gravity took her.
Nathaniel threw Harrison aside and ran.
Clare reached the bottom.
Her head did not strike the marble because one arm remained curled beneath it.
But blood appeared against the pale rose fabric of her dress.
Nathaniel dropped beside her.
“Clare.”
Her eyes fluttered.
“Nathaniel…”
“Don't move.”
His hands shook as he touched her face.
“Baby.”
“I know.”
“My baby—”
“I know.”
He looked up.
Every person on the staircase had frozen.
Eleanor.
Harrison.
Victoria.
Members of both dynasties.
Lucas was already calling an ambulance.
Nathaniel’s shirt became wet with Clare’s blood.
Something behind his eyes changed.
He looked toward the landing.
His voice did not rise.
That made it worse.
“If she loses that baby…”
Even Harrison went still.
Nathaniel continued.
“None of you walk away.”
Clare weakly caught his sleeve.
“Nathaniel.”
He immediately looked down.
“I'm here.”
“No killing.”
His face cracked.
Even now.
Bleeding on marble.
She was asking him to remain the man he had promised their child he would become.
Nathaniel pressed his forehead to hers.
“No killing.”
Sirens approached.
Then Victoria stepped forward.
Her dress trembled around her knees.
“I saw who pushed her.”
Nathaniel looked up.
Eleanor whispered:
“Victoria.”
Victoria began crying.
She pointed.
Not at Eleanor.
At Harrison.
“My father.”
May you like
Harrison’s face went white.
And Nathaniel realized the final betrayal had come from the man who had spent years expecting to become part of his family.
