Chapter 2 - The Hit and Run
The diamonds sparkled under the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room.
I stared at the necklace, a unique piece designed entirely from my late grandmother's wedding ring.
Grant saw the exact moment my eyes locked onto the jewelry, and his relaxed posture instantly turned rigid.
"Rachel, I told you to wait in the car," Grant snapped, his voice sharp with sudden panic.
Rachel touched the pendant defensively, pretending to look confused by the sudden tension in the room.
"I just wanted to make sure poor little Eli was doing okay," she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.
I walked toward her, my hands balling into fists so tight my fingernails dug deep into my palms.
"Take off my grandmother's necklace and get out of my son's hospital room," I demanded.
Rachel looked at Grant with wide, tearful eyes, playing the victim exactly as she always did.
Grant stepped between us, using his broad shoulders to shield the woman he claimed was just an old friend.
"Mara, you are exhausted and hysterical, so let us just calm down before you cause a scene," he warned.
I grabbed the plastic vase of flowers from Rachel's hand and threw it directly into the hallway trash can.
"I am giving you three seconds to remove her from this building before I call hospital security," I told him.
Grant glared at me, his jaw clenching in anger before he gently guided Rachel out the door.
He promised he would return after he took her home, acting as if I was the one being unreasonable.
I locked the door behind them, collapsing back into the chair beside Eli's bed as a fresh wave of tears hit me.
My marriage had been a lie for a very long time, but I had stayed to protect Eli's future.
Now, that same man had nearly let our son die to accommodate his mistress.
I pulled out my phone and dialed the number for Arthur Vance, the most ruthless corporate lawyer in Baltimore.
Arthur answered on the first ring, completely unfazed by the early morning hour.
I explained the corporate proxy document I possessed and instructed him to begin the hostile takeover process immediately.
I wanted Grant left with absolutely nothing by the end of the week.
Just as Arthur agreed to draft the initial filings, a sharp knock echoed on the hospital room door.
I expected to see Grant returning to argue with me, but it was a uniformed police officer holding a clipboard.
"Mrs. Whitmore, I am Detective Harris, and I have some updates regarding the vehicle that struck your son," he announced.
I stood up, my heart pounding in my chest as I prepared to hear the details of the random accident.
The detective looked down at his notes with a grim expression.
"We recovered traffic camera footage from the intersection where Eli was hit," the detective explained softly.
He pulled a glossy photograph from his folder and handed it to me.
"The vehicle wasn't a random hit-and-run driver, Mrs. Whitmore."
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I stared at the clear image of the black luxury SUV speeding away from the scene.
"The license plate matches a car registered to a woman named Rachel Palmer," the detective finished.
