Chapter 17
Claire smiled politely at a senator, but her eyes tracked Vincent and Julian across the room. She saw the tension in Vincent's shoulders, the smug look on Julian's face.
She excused herself and walked toward them, her crimson dress sweeping across the marble floor.
"Julian," Claire said, stopping a few feet away. "I'm surprised you showed your face tonight. I thought retirement would keep you busy."
"I came to support my son," Julian said smoothly, kissing the air near her cheek. "You look radiant, Claire. Crimson suits you. It's the color of war."
"It's the color of survival," she corrected. "Excuse us, Julian. I need my husband."
Julian's eyes narrowed slightly at her phrasing, but he bowed his head and walked away.
Vincent looked at her, entirely off balance. "You called me your husband."
"Don't read into it," Claire said quietly, taking a glass of champagne from a passing tray. "We have a problem. Marcus intercepted Sophia trying to sell her story to the press. She has expense reports tying your London trip to company shell accounts."
Vincent paled. "I didn't use company money for that."
"Then who did?" Claire asked, her eyes searching his.
May you like
Vincent looked across the room at his father, who was laughing with a group of investors. "Oh my god. He set the whole thing up. He booked the flights. He booked the hotels."
Claire's grip on her glass tightened. "He didn't just expose your affair, Vincent. He financed it to frame you for embezzlement."
