Chapter 5 - The Sunrise
By 5:00 a.m., I was in a private suite at Mount Sinai.
My back was bandaged, my wrist was braced, and the IV in my arm fed a steady stream of painkillers that dulled the roaring fire into a manageable ache. Through the large window of the hospital room, I watched the sun begin to rise over the East River, painting the city in shades of pale gold and bruised purple.
My father sat in a chair beside my bed, holding my uninjured hand.
His phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and gave a small, satisfied nod.
"It's done," my father said softly. "The board of NexusCore ousted him at 4:30 a.m. to save themselves. His accounts are frozen. Lauren Thorne left the Hamptons house with two suitcases and blocked his number. And Matthew was just transferred from the precinct to central booking. Bail has been denied."
I looked out at the city. The same city that had been blinking indifferently behind the penthouse windows while I bled on the marble floor. It looked different now. It looked like mine again.
"Thank you," I whispered, squeezing his hand.
May you like
"You are a Sterling, Clare," my father said, his voice fierce with pride and love. "No one takes what is ours. And no one touches you ever again."
I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of the rising sun wash over my face. The pain was still there, but the fear was completely gone. Matthew Hayes had tried to beat me into submission, but all he had done was wake up the empire he had foolishly forgotten I belonged to.
