Chapter 1628

[ 617 words ]

The rest of the Hardings were entirely in the dark.

Hanson knew, of course, but he had never breathed a word of it to the family, nor did he blame Claire.

“This had nothing to do with you. Hillary was executing her orders,” Harold said firmly.

“Taking fire for her VIP is her sworn duty.”

The patriarch’s terrifying rationality was a rare trait in the capital’s elite circles.

Claire opened her mouth, but couldn’t find the words.

When the family was being this understanding, it felt dramatic to keep playing the martyr.

Ultimately, the blood was on the hands of The Daybreak Syndicate.

If those psychotic mercenaries hadn’t staged an ambush, none of this would have happened.

“I’ll head out and get some sleep then?”

Seeing the faint grey light of dawn creeping through the windows, Claire desperately wanted her bed.

The sterile scent of the hospital was making her nauseous.

But Mr. Harding stepped forward, his expression tight. “Would it be possible for you to stay until Hillary regains consciousness?”

“I know it’s a massive imposition, but her condition is just so volatile.”

“I can have a private suite arranged for you here immediately,” he offered. And he wasn’t lying.

Hillary’s VIP wing came equipped with a luxurious adjacent room for family.

Claire could easily crash there for the night.

Harold shot his son a sharp glare. “Let the girl go home. If she says Hillary is stable, then she is stable.”

Could the man not see that Claire was practically swaying on her feet?

Claire looked sweet and compliant, but she was definitely not someone to push around.

She was the granddaughter of The Churchill Family, and she was engaged to Dane.

The Green Family ruled the corporate world, while the Churchills possessed terrifying foundational power.

With those two titans at her back, Claire could essentially do whatever she wanted in Cabinda.

Power in this city was an invisible web. Even the most seemingly distant politicians or businessmen were quietly bankrolled by those two bloodlines.

So, offending them was corporate suicide.

Furthermore, Claire had heavy ties to elite political figures.

She had earned the unwavering respect of the old guard.

And those men protected their own with vicious prejudice.

If Mr. Harding crossed the line with her, the ensuing retaliation could cripple the Harding family.

“I don’t mind staying,” Claire interjected.

She honestly didn’t care. Sleeping on a hospital bed was better than driving thirty minutes home.

Medically, she didn’t need to be there, but her presence was a psychological anchor for the parents.

Mr. Harding was clearly terrified of losing his daughter.

“Thank you, Claire,” Mr. Harding exhaled completely ignoring his father’s furious “glarë. He just wanted his little girl safe.

He figured even if Claire was annoyed, she could at least understand a father’s terror.

Claire face-planted into the suite’s mattress and slept like the dead until a sharp knock roused her.

It was Ewan Harding.

“Claire. Hillary’s vitals normalized, and she actually woke up for a second. My uncle wants you to check on her.”

Harold Harding had already gone home. If the patriarch had been present, Ewan would never have dared to wake her.

Ewan had tried to tell his uncle that Hillary waking up proved

Passessment was entiranet

and

they should leave the girl alone.

There was zero reason to drag her out of bed again.

The girl had essentially performed a miracle and looked dead on her feet. Why couldn’t they just let her sleep?

Being ripped out of her dreams left Claire distinctly irritated.

Her sleep deficit was massive, and a few hours in a hospital room wasn’t fixing it.

Getting jarringly awoken from a deep REM cycle by Ewan’s frantic knocking would make anyone murderous.

However, since it involved Hillary, Claire swallowed her annoyance.

She dragged herself out of bed and splashed cold water on her face.

At least once she confirmed Hillary’s status, she was officially off

clock and could head straight back to campus

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