Chapter 7 - The Collapse Of Sophia Reynolds
Sophia broke into quiet, racking sobs, sinking onto the edge of the sofa. ""He’s telling the truth, Claire. Vincent never touched me. Not once. Every time he came to my house, he was setting up security cameras, checking the perimeter, or signing legal trusts to ensure Oliver had a future if Patrick ever came back.""
""And you let him treat me like dirt,"" I said, turning my cold gaze onto Sophia. ""You called him in the middle of the night for head colds. You let him bring you expensive Christmas presents to our home. You sat by and watched him ignore his own wife while you soaked up his guilt like a sponge.""
Sophia flinched, unable to meet my eyes. ""Because I was terrified,"" she whispered. ""I was selfish, and I was terrified. Patrick took everything from me. When Leo died, Vincent was the only wall standing between my baby and a shallow grave. I didn't care who got hurt in the process, as long as Oliver was safe. I knew you hated me. I knew what it looked like. But I let Vincent keep you at a distance because I thought if he had a real, happy marriage, he would eventually forget about us.""
The brutal honesty hung in the air, heavy and unvarnished. Sophia hadn't been Vincent’s secret lover; she had been his eternal anchor of guilt, an emotional parasite feeding on his twisted sense of duty to his dead brother.
And Vincent had willingly sacrificed me on that altar.
Suddenly, the penthouse lights flickered once, twice, and then plunged into total darkness.
The emergency backup generators failed to kick in. The heavy mechanical hum of the elevator shafts downstairs ground to an abrupt, screeching halt.
Vincent moved instantly, his instincts taking over before Sophia could even scream. He pulled a compact tactical firearm from the holster beneath his suit jacket, his eyes sweeping the darkened glass perimeter.
""The power grid to the upper four floors just got severed from the basement,"" Vincent said in a low, lethal whisper. ""Miller didn't run away. He waited until the storm cleared the building staff out.""
From the private elevator foyer down the hall, the heavy steel security doors gave a loud, metallic groan as hydraulic jacks were forced between the seams.
""Sophia, take Oliver into the safe room behind the wine cellar now,"" Vincent ordered, not taking his eyes off the foyer. ""Lock it from the inside. Do not open it for anyone other than me or Claire.""
Sophia grabbed Oliver from the playroom, muffling the boy’s frightened whimpers, and hurried down the dark hallway.
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I stood rooted to the spot, my heart pounding in my throat, watching Vincent step in front of me, placing his massive frame directly between me and the breaching doors.
""Claire,"" he whispered into the dark, his voice steady now, stripped of all lies. ""If I don't walk out of this hallway tonight, the safe on the wall contains a second key. It opens a safety deposit box at Chase on Michigan Avenue. Everything in it belongs to you. No strings. No prenuptial agreements. No apologies—because I know damn well an apology could never fix what I broke in you.""
