Chapter 9 - The Reason He Chose Me
Grant sat across from me and destroyed eight years in less than ten minutes.
He had met me intentionally.
Not by coincidence at a museum fundraiser, as I had believed.
Victoria knew I was Thomas Rowan’s daughter.
She had encouraged him to approach me.
At first, Grant said, the goal was information.
Then access.
Eventually marriage became useful.
I listened without crying.
“Did you ever love me?”
“I told you I did.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
His eyes closed briefly.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Too late.”
That answer hurt because I believed it.
“What changed?”
“You.”
I almost laughed.
“Convenient.”
“I didn’t expect you to be…”
“What?”
“Kind.”
I stared at him.
“I didn’t expect to fall in love with you.”
“Yet you kept lying.”
“I thought I could fix everything before you found out.”
“You drugged me.”
“No.”
“You helped Dr. Lyle.”
“I was there.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Grant stood.
“I didn’t know exactly what he gave you.”
“Did you ask him to make me look incapacitated?”
He did not respond.
I felt something inside me settle.
Not break.
Settle.
The last piece of uncertainty disappeared.
“You should go.”
“Claire.”
“Go.”
He walked to the door.
Then stopped.
“My mother won’t surrender.”
“Neither will I.”
“You don’t understand her.”
“I finally do.”
“No.”
Grant looked back.
“You understand what she did to you.”
His voice dropped.
“You have no idea what she did to my father.”
Then he left.
That sentence stayed with me.
So I investigated Richard Mercer.
Elias hated the idea.
Naomi supported it.
“If Grant’s defense is that Rowan victimized the family,” she said, “we should know whether any part is true.”
The answer was complicated.
My father had been aggressive.
He had demanded harsh terms.
He had acquired valuable warrants and preferred shares while Mercer was desperate.
But he had also injected capital nobody else would provide.
He had stopped creditors from breaking the company apart.
Richard Mercer’s accusation of theft was emotionally understandable.
Legally, less so.
Then we found a document that changed everything.
Richard had signed a private side letter.
It stated that he had knowingly approved transactions involving Victoria-controlled entities.
My father had discovered them.
Instead of exposing Richard publicly, he had demanded stronger oversight.
Richard agreed.
Six months later, Richard Mercer died from a heart attack.
Victoria had spent years telling Grant that Thomas Rowan destroyed his father.
But Richard’s own signature told a different story.
He had been protecting Victoria.
Just as Grant was now protecting her.
History had repeated itself.
On Monday, we went to court.
Grant’s attorneys portrayed me as unstable.
Naomi dismantled Dr. Lyle’s affidavit piece by piece.
Medication log discrepancies.
Financial payments.
Access to my private records.
Then Natalie testified.
Then Rebecca.
By lunchtime, Grant’s attorneys looked worried.
But Victoria had one more weapon.
A psychiatric evaluation.
Signed by a second doctor.
Dr. Samuel Kerr.
He claimed he had assessed me remotely after the gala.
I had never met him.
Never spoken to him.
Yet his report described delusions, compulsive thinking, and persecutory fears.
The judge frowned.
My attorney challenged authenticity.
Victoria’s counsel produced telehealth documentation.
My name.
My insurance information.
My digital signature.
Forgery.
But proving it would take time.
Time we did not have.
At 4:13 p.m., the judge issued a temporary ruling.
Not full incapacity.
But enough.
My direct exercise of certain emergency voting rights would be suspended for seven days pending authentication review.
Seven days.
Grant needed one.
Outside the courthouse, reporters shouted questions.
Grant walked past me.
For just a second, our eyes met.
He looked devastated.
Not victorious.
That confused me.
Then Naomi grabbed my arm.
“Claire.”
“What?”
She was staring at her phone.
“The board vote moved.”
“To when?”
“Tonight.”
I stopped walking.
“They’re not waiting until tomorrow.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Naomi looked up.
“Because Northstar’s attorneys just discovered the audit.”
My heart hammered.
May you like
“And?”
“They’re threatening to walk away unless the merger is signed before midnight.”
