Chapter 5 - Reclaiming the Crown
When I returned to the main house, the air inside was thick with tension.
Sarah was pacing back and forth in the grand foyer, her hands wrapped tightly in the sleeves of her oversized sweater. The moment the heavy oak doors opened and I stepped inside, wiping the rain from my coat, she rushed forward.
"Did he leave?" she asked, her voice breathless. "Did he say anything about Chloe?"
"He left," I said, setting my umbrella in the brass stand. "And he won't be coming back."
Sarah let out a long, shuddering breath, her shoulders collapsing as the adrenaline finally drained from her body. She leaned against the marble pillar in the foyer, covering her face with her hands.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered into her palms, her voice muffled and broken. "I brought my messy, ruined life into your home. You saved my daughter’s life, and in return, I’m bringing trash to your front gate."
I walked over to her. I didn't stop until I was standing right in front of her. Slowly, deliberately, I reached out and took her wrists, pulling her hands gently away from her face.
"Look at me, Sarah," I commanded softly.
She looked up, her green eyes rimmed with red, full of tears she refused to let fall.
"You are not trash," I said, keeping my voice firm, absolute. "Your husband is a coward who ran when things got hard. The men at St. Jude’s are criminals who hid behind their wealth. But you stood up for a comatose child when it cost you everything. You are the strongest woman I have ever met."
Sarah stared at me, her lips parting slightly. "Julian..."
"Tomorrow morning, we begin the process of taking your life back," I said. "Not just a warm bed for Chloe. Your license. Your reputation. Your name."
The next morning, I took Sarah and Chloe into the city's high-end shopping district.
Sarah resisted at first, standing outside the sleek glass doors of the designer boutique on 5th Avenue, claiming she had plenty of clothes from the donation bin Mrs. Gable had brought.
"Contractual requirement," I said smoothly, opening the door for her. "My private medical consultant represents Sterling Enterprises. You cannot wear hand-me-downs to corporate board meetings."
Sarah glared at me, recognizing the lie for what it was, but Chloe’s gasp of delight as she stepped onto the plush carpet melted Sarah’s resistance.
For three hours, the store was closed to the public.
I sat on a velvet sofa, sipping espresso, while tailors and stylists brought out armfuls of clothing. I watched as Chloe was fitted for warm cashmere sweaters, sturdy leather boots, and a bright, beautiful royal-blue down jacket that made her look like a little princess.
Then Sarah stepped out of the fitting room.
She was wearing a tailored emerald-green silk dress that hugged her curves with elegant precision, topped with a cream wool coat that fell to her knees. Her blonde hair had been styled into soft, cascading waves, and the faint touch of makeup highlighted her high cheekbones and striking green eyes.
She looked breathtaking. A woman rebuilt from the ashes of her own ruin.
She looked down at her reflection in the full-length mirror, her hand touching the silk of her sleeve as if she didn't recognize the person staring back.
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"It's too much," Sarah murmured softly, turning to look at me. "Julian... I look like..."
"You look like the woman who is going to destroy Dr. Marcus Vance," I said, standing up from the sofa, my eyes locked onto hers.
