Page 106 of Anchor
Claire shook her head, voice hollow. “You used a fake pregnancy to stage a political event?”
“Yes,” Heather said. “I was setting up for my future.” She took a breath. “Lucien was watching, always planning. Then there was providence. A woman was brought into a clinic in Geneva with a gunshot to the head. She was eight months pregnant. The baby, premature, survived. He paid the clinic—quietly.”
Claire could feel something breaking inside her. “You’re saying…” she began but couldn’t finish.
Heather said it for her, “Joseph came running, worry in his eyes and relief on his face. We had you.”
“Vos had a woman shot in the head. Do you know who she was? Did you even care?” Claire stepped back into Ian’s chest. His arms steadied her until she found her balance.
Heather’s voice gentled, like that made it better. “You were a miracle, Claire. I told Joseph you were ours. He believed it.”
Zach stepped forward, his face like stone. Martin looked away.
And Claire… Claire didn’t feel her body anymore. Her voice held on. “You figured out my abilities, and rather than love me, help me to understand, you and Vos turned me into a weapon.”
Heather didn’t deny it. No one spoke. No one moved.
Heather’s hands were folded tightly in her lap, knuckles white. Claire couldn’t feel her hands.
Zach Wentworth set the folder on the table between them. He pulled a page off a fax machine from Chase legal. Ian designed the form while he and Martin headed over. Zach slid a single page forward—letterhead sharp, signature line waiting.
“You’ll sign this.” His voice was calm but devoid of any softness. “It’s called an Executive Resignation and Non-Engagement Agreement. You’ll recognize the terms.” He tapped the page once with a gloved finger. “You are resigning fromeverything, Heather. Every board seat. Every advisory position. Every government or private intelligence panel you’ve ever whispered your way into.”
She started to speak, but he didn’t let her. “You will sever all ties. No emails. No encrypted drops. No whisper campaigns. You will not call in favors, not even the ones you think are above Ian’s reach. And you will take nothing with you. No files. No contacts. Not so much as a thumb drive.”
Heather blinked. “This is exile.”
Zach’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “No, this is mercy.”
He leaned in, voice lower now. “You have thirty-six hours to put your affairs in order. After that, if your name shows up anywhere outside a coffee order, Ian will dismantle what’s left of your reputation, your reach, and your legacy.”
Heather’s jaw tightened.
Zach tilted his head. “If you want to walk away with your bones intact, sign the paper. Vanish. And pray Ian never has to remember you again.”
He pushed the pen toward her. “Choose quickly. Your window just started.”
Heather signed, the handwriting perfect.
Zach collected the papers, checked them, then slid them into a secure sleeve and nodded at her. “This way.”
Heather stood and moved past Claire without a glance. Past Ian, Kieran and Martin, and out the door like none of it ever meant anything. The door hissed shut behind her and Zach. And the room grew too still.
Claire hadn’t moved. The walls felt too close. Her skin too tight. Her heart kept beating, but it didn’t feel like hers. She’d been given a life dressed in illusion, brought up on a lie. She was packaged, named, and sculpted into what Heather thought the world needed.
Her hands were trembling. She didn’t realize they were until she looked down.
Ian stepped closer. His voice was low, softer than she’d ever heard it. “I’m sorry, Claire.”
She turned toward him. Or maybe she just tilted. Her balance was gone, and then everything collapsed. Her vision narrowed, and white-hot tears fell. The floor lurched, but she didn’t fall.
Ian caught her. One arm around her waist, one behind her shoulders. He dropped with her, fast and instinctive, kneeling on the floor as her body gave out in his arms.
“Claire… hey, Claire.” His voice was suddenly sharp. Real. “Stay with me.”
She couldn’t answer.
Martin was already at the door, calling for a medical response. Kieran knelt across from his brother, concern etched deep in his face.
