“They were signed for you,” Jonas said softly. “By your father. Forged, or coerced. I don’t know. But it all funnels through your name.”
Her chest tightened. “Why would he?”
“Because once you marry Oliver,” Jonas cut in, voice taut, “it all transfers to him. The property. The trusts. The financial pipeline. Everything. The marriage was never about saving the Sutton estate. It was about securing a legal transfer. You weren’t saving anything. You were the prize.”
The words sliced through her like glass. She stared at the screen, seeing not just numbers and signatures, but years of lies. The little nudges her parents had given her. The pressure to stay with Oliver despite her doubts. Her mother’s insistence that it was for the family.
Her hands shook. “So, he, my father, wasn’t trying to protect us. He was…” She broke off, bile burning her throat. “He was selling me.”
Jonas’s grip tightened on her hand. “He was using you. And making sure if the network fell apart, you’d be implicated instead of him. A scapegoat.”
Her head spun. The room tilted and she pressed her forehead against Jonas’s chest, steadying herself on his solid weight. She wanted to scream, to deny it, to pretend the evidence wasn’t there, but her father’s signature was burned into her mind, alongside her own name dragged across pages she’d never seen.
Silence fell, heavy and suffocating.
Clara could barely breathe. Her heart thundered against her ribs, tears pricking hot at her eyes. She wanted to protest, to argue, to cling to the image of her father she’d always held, but the screens glowed with proof. She wasn’t the saviour of her family. She was the bargaining chip.
Her voice came out small. “He’s… he’s rich. He always has been.” She blinked hard, shaking her head. “And all those timesthey told me we couldn’t keep the house, that everything was falling apart,”
“It was leverage,” Jonas finished, his jaw tight.
Bás’s expression softened, just for a breath, before hardening again as he addressed the team. “Oliver’s a symptom. The Suttons are the disease. We dig deeper. We find every link, every bastard tied to this. No more shadows.”
The team shifted, the crackle of determination in the air.
Clara sat frozen, her world burning down around her. The only thing keeping her upright was the steady arm of the man beneath her, the man she now realised was the only one who’d never lied to her.
Bás scanned the room, his arms folded, his stance screaming command. “Duchess, you’ve got MI5 contacts. I want you to see what they know about the Suttons. Quietly. No chatter that could blow this wide.”
Duchess gave a sharp nod, her jaw tight. “On it.”
“Bishop,” Bás continued, “dig into financials. Track shell companies. If it’s in Clara’s name, I want to know every transaction, every bloody paperclip purchased.”
Bishop smirked faintly, but his eyes were serious. “Consider it done. I’ll rope Charlie in. She loves tearing apart financial fraud.”
“Titan, Snow, you’re on security. Both here and for Lena. We don’t give Oliver or anyone else another opening. Reaper, Bein, you run down the muscle. Associates. Known hitters. If Hansen’s replacement is moving in shadows, he’s got men. Find them. Focus on his ties from Africa.”
Reaper leaned back in his chair, grin sharp. “Time to stretch my legs.”
Lotus’s gaze flicked toward Clara, then back to Bás. “And me?”
“You stay close to Clara.” Bás’s tone left no room for argument. “She’s in the crosshairs. She doesn’t breathe without you knowing it.”
Lotus tilted her head. “Copy that.” Her eyes softened briefly as they met Clara’s.
Valentina shifted where she sat, Monty and Scout at her feet, alert even in the calm. “I’ll support where needed. But, Clara,” she gave her a small smile, “if you need someone outside of all the noise, I’m here. We take care of our own.”
Clara swallowed, her throat thick.Our own. The words should have felt alien, but instead they wrapped around her like a balm.
Bás straightened, his gaze sweeping them all again. “This isn’t just Oliver anymore. This is a network. And Clara’s father is tied to it, whether she knew it or not.”
A muscle jumped in Jonas’s arm beneath her hand, his arm still anchoring her in place. “He used her. Set her up.”
Clara flinched.
Bás’s voice softened, but only a fraction. “We protect her, we protect Lena, and we expose this for what it is. But no mistakes, too much is riding on this.”
The team murmured agreement, determination snapping into place like steel.
