Chapter 7 - The Truth Unveiled
Robert gently lifted Rose’s frail shoulders, wrapping his own expensive cashmere overcoat around her shivering frame.
"We need to get her to the hospital immediately," Robert shouted to the guards. "Call Dr. Vance! Tell him to clear the private wing at St. Jude's. Move!"
"Wait..." Rose caught Robert’s wrist with surprising strength, her fingers digging into his sleeve. Her breathing came in ragged gasps. "Don't... don't waste time on an old woman. Listen to me, Robert... you have to listen..."
"Rose, save your strength—"
"No!" She coughed, a spray of crimson hitting a handkerchief she pressed to her mouth. "Ten years... I hid us for ten years. Not because I hated you... but because of them."
Robert froze. "Who? Who are you talking about?"
"Your partners," Rose gasped, tears spilling down her wrinkled cheeks. "The board members. When Clara found out about the illegal dumping contracts... the bribes... she threatened to expose the corporation. She wanted you to be clean, Robert. She thought you didn't know."
Robert felt the room spin. "Clara... she knew?"
"She packed her bags that night to go to the authorities," Rose wept softly. "And then... our brakes failed. On the winding road down from Bellmont. Our car went off the cliff. Clara pushed the stroller carrying our baby into the brush just before impact... but she... she didn't make it out."
Robert stared at the old woman, the world collapsing around him in slow motion.
"The baby..." Robert choked out, his voice barely a whisper. "Anna... is..."
"She survived," Rose smiled weakly through her tears. "I raised her in the shadows, running, hiding, terrified that the men who sabotaged our brakes would find out the heir to the Miller empire was still alive. We used fake names. We starved. But she lived, Robert. She has Clara's fire."
A dark, towering fury rose inside Robert Miller—a rage so cold and absolute that it eclipsed every emotion he had felt in a decade.
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The board. His closest associates. The men he had trusted to run his empire while he mourned in alcoholic isolation. They hadn't just driven Clara away; they had murdered her.
And they had tried to kill his child.
