Chapter 6 - The Fire That Never Was
6 - 15
The afternoon sun filtered through the leaded glass windows of the grand library, casting long, golden shadows across the Persian rugs and towering mahogany bookshelves.
Amelia sat propped up against a mountain of down pillows on the velvet chaise lounge, wrapped in a plush cashmere throw. A cup of steaming herbal tea rested on the small silver table beside her. Across from her sat Lily, busy sketching pictures of yellow flowers and a glowing sun in a brand-new drawing pad, completely absorbed in the safety and warmth of her new reality.
Ethan stepped quietly into the library, closing the heavy oak doors behind him. He walked over to Amelia, kneeling beside her chaise and gently taking her thin, pale hand in his.
“How are you feeling?” Ethan asked, his voice softening instantly as he looked into her eyes.
“Better,” Amelia smiled, squeezing his hand. “Every hour feels a little more real. As if I’m finally waking up from a seven-year nightmare. Did… did you handle the board?”
“They resigned,” Ethan replied, a faint, humorless smile touching the corners of his lips. “Every last one of them. The company is completely ours now. No more board votes, no more corporate syndicates, no more threats. The Blackwood empire answers to us, and to no one else.”
Amelia let out a long, shuddering breath, resting her head back against the pillows. “And Arthur Pendelton? Did he tell you the truth about the hospital fire?”
Ethan’s expression darkened, the warmth draining from his face as the memory of Pendelton’s terrified confession flashed through his mind.
“I didn’t start the fire!” Pendelton had sobbed across the boardroom table, his hands shaking as he clutched the confession document. “It was a chemical flash charge! Victor had a demolition crew rig the west wing of the maternity ward an hour before you arrived at the hospital. He wanted it to look like an electrical failure so no one would ever look closer!”
“Why?” Ethan had demanded, gripping Pendelton by the tie. “Why burn down an entire hospital wing just to kill a newborn baby?”
“Because the family trust specified that any direct heir had to be born in a certified Blackwood medical facility under official notary observation!” Pendelton choked out, gasping for air. “If the baby was born off-site or unregistered, the succession clause would be voided! Victor needed Amelia out of the picture, and he needed the baby declared dead so he could consolidate eighty percent of the voting shares before the annual audit!”
Ethan looked back at Amelia, his chest tightening with a mix of fury and profound sorrow. He reached out, gently brushing a lock of dark hair away from her forehead.
“He rigged the west wing,” Ethan said quietly, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. “He planned the whole thing down to the minute. He wanted us both dead, Amelia. And he almost got away with it.”
Amelia reached up, placing her hand gently over his clenched fist. Her touch was the only thing capable of calming the storm raging inside him.
“He didn’t get away with it, Ethan,” Amelia whispered, her dark eyes locking onto his with absolute, unyielding strength. “We survived. Lily survived. And as long as we are together, nothing else matters.”
Lily looked up from her drawing pad, noticing the heavy silence in the room. She crawled off the floor, climbed onto the chaise beside her mother, and leaned her small head against Amelia’s shoulder.
“Are we ever going to have to go back to the dark room, Mommy?” Lily asked softly, her voice carrying a trace of lingering childhood fear.
May you like
Amelia wrapped her arms around both of them, pulling them close in a tight, unbreakable embrace.
“Never, sweetheart,” Amelia promised, kissing the top of Lily’s head as tears of pure joy glistened in her eyes. “Nobody is ever taking us away from here again. We are home to stay.”
