Chapter 7
I didn't trust Claire immediately. How could I? She was the reason Ethan had drained me dry. Her blood ran through veins that had been refilled at my expense.
But over the following weeks, she proved herself.
She brought me documents from Ethan's home office — financial records he'd kept locked away. She recorded conversations where Ethan discussed "managing" the donor situation. She gave me access to communications between Ethan and his private medical team.
Each piece of evidence was more damning than the last.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked her one evening as we sat together reviewing files.
Claire's jaw tightened. "Because I spent three years in a coma, and when I woke up, everyone told me I was lucky. Blessed. A miracle." She looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. "I was never a miracle, Mia. I was a crime scene."
I understood then. Claire wasn't just angry at Ethan. She was horrified by her own existence — by the cost of her survival.
"You didn't choose this," I told her. "He did."
She nodded slowly. "That's why I'm choosing now."
Together, Claire and I became an unlikely alliance. She continued playing the devoted fiancée, keeping Ethan unsuspecting while feeding me information.
Meanwhile, Thomas Reed and I completed our share acquisition. We now controlled twenty-eight percent — more than enough to force a board meeting.
The date was set: one week before Ethan's wedding.
During this time, I also filed a formal complaint with the medical board regarding my extractions. Dr. Patel's documentation proved invaluable. The investigation was opened quietly, but it would become very public very soon.
Everything was falling into place.
Then, three days before the board meeting, Ethan showed up at my door.
I opened it, and there he was — tall, handsome, and furious.
"Mia." His voice was controlled, but I could see the tension in his jaw. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Coming inside?" I asked calmly.
"Don't play games with me." He stepped forward. "I know someone's been buying up my shares. I know someone's been talking to my board members. And now I find out you're living here, in this apartment, with an investment portfolio that doesn't match anything you should be able to afford."
I leaned against the doorframe. "Sounds like you've been keeping tabs on me."
"I never stopped." His eyes searched my face. "Mia, whatever you're planning — stop. Take the settlement. Five million. I'll give you five million and we walk away clean."
"Clean?" I laughed. "Ethan, nothing about us was ever clean."
He grabbed my wrist — not hard, but firm. "I did what I had to do to save Claire. You would have done the same."
I pulled my wrist free. "No. I wouldn't have. Because I would never have treated another human being as spare parts."
His face flickered — something between guilt and defiance.
"Mia—"
"The board meeting is in three days," I said. "I suggest you prepare."
I closed the door in his face.
But over the following weeks, she proved herself.
She brought me documents from Ethan's home office — financial records he'd kept locked away. She recorded conversations where Ethan discussed "managing" the donor situation. She gave me access to communications between Ethan and his private medical team.
Each piece of evidence was more damning than the last.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked her one evening as we sat together reviewing files.
Claire's jaw tightened. "Because I spent three years in a coma, and when I woke up, everyone told me I was lucky. Blessed. A miracle." She looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. "I was never a miracle, Mia. I was a crime scene."
I understood then. Claire wasn't just angry at Ethan. She was horrified by her own existence — by the cost of her survival.
"You didn't choose this," I told her. "He did."
She nodded slowly. "That's why I'm choosing now."
Together, Claire and I became an unlikely alliance. She continued playing the devoted fiancée, keeping Ethan unsuspecting while feeding me information.
Meanwhile, Thomas Reed and I completed our share acquisition. We now controlled twenty-eight percent — more than enough to force a board meeting.
The date was set: one week before Ethan's wedding.
During this time, I also filed a formal complaint with the medical board regarding my extractions. Dr. Patel's documentation proved invaluable. The investigation was opened quietly, but it would become very public very soon.
Everything was falling into place.
Then, three days before the board meeting, Ethan showed up at my door.
I opened it, and there he was — tall, handsome, and furious.
"Mia." His voice was controlled, but I could see the tension in his jaw. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Coming inside?" I asked calmly.
"Don't play games with me." He stepped forward. "I know someone's been buying up my shares. I know someone's been talking to my board members. And now I find out you're living here, in this apartment, with an investment portfolio that doesn't match anything you should be able to afford."
I leaned against the doorframe. "Sounds like you've been keeping tabs on me."
"I never stopped." His eyes searched my face. "Mia, whatever you're planning — stop. Take the settlement. Five million. I'll give you five million and we walk away clean."
"Clean?" I laughed. "Ethan, nothing about us was ever clean."
He grabbed my wrist — not hard, but firm. "I did what I had to do to save Claire. You would have done the same."
I pulled my wrist free. "No. I wouldn't have. Because I would never have treated another human being as spare parts."
His face flickered — something between guilt and defiance.
"Mia—"
"The board meeting is in three days," I said. "I suggest you prepare."
I closed the door in his face.