Chapter 8 - Claire Became the Person He Trusted Most
Grant had spent his adult life surrounded by men who carried guns and women who understood expensive silence.
Yet the person he trusted most by the end of that week was a maid who had never asked him for anything.
Claire found him in the rehabilitation gym shortly after two in the morning.
He had fallen.
His cane lay six feet away.
Blood darkened one knee.
She did not rush dramatically toward him.
She simply walked over and held out her hand.
“You’re overdoing it.”
“I have five days.”
“You also have one spine.”
Grant took her hand.
She helped him sit.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then Claire said, “Lily and I can leave.”
He looked at her.
“If Carter threatens her again, we leave.”
“You should.”
Claire frowned.
“That wasn’t what I expected you to say.”
Grant looked toward the dark windows.
“Six months ago I would have told you nobody leaves my house without my permission.”
“And now?”
“Now I’ve had enough people confusing protection with ownership.”
Claire studied him.
That sentence mattered.
So did what she did next.
She sat beside him.
Not beneath him.
Not waiting for instructions.
Beside him.
“You want to know why Lily likes you?”
Grant raised an eyebrow.
“Because of my charming disposition?”
“She thinks you’re lonely.”
He almost laughed.
“She said you have a big house but nobody sits close to you.”
That landed more deeply than he expected.
Grant looked toward the wheelchair in the corner.
For most of his life, proximity meant danger.
Carter had been close.
Owen had been close.
Vanessa had been close.
And each relationship contained secrets.
Claire continued.
“You don’t have to become nice, Mr. Blackwood.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“You just have to stop believing loyalty means people are afraid to leave.”
Grant said nothing.
Then Lily wandered sleepily into the gym.
Again.
Claire sighed.
“One day I’m buying a lock.”
Lily saw Grant on the floor.
“Did your feet lose?”
“Temporarily.”
She held out her stuffed rabbit.
“You can borrow Bunny.”
Grant accepted it with absolute seriousness.
“Thank you.”
Claire laughed.
And in that ridiculous moment—blood on his knee, billionaire crime boss holding a stuffed rabbit—Grant understood something Carter never had.
Power gained by making people stay was fragile.
The people in that room were staying because they had chosen to.
That was different.
May you like
That was stronger.
And when Grant stood again ten minutes later, he crossed the full gym without touching the bars.
