It wasn’t a question. Julian’s tone left no room for doubt. He’d already pieced it together last night. Helene couldn’t have found out on her own—someone had to have told her, hoping she’d pass the message to him. But who? It wasn’t his grandfather. That only left Claire, the other survivor from the car accident.
That’s why Julian had people watching the Ballard family. As soon as Claire left the house, his men stopped her.
“You told Helene, hoping she’d come to me and stir things up between me and Madeline. You thought if I stopped protecting Madeline, it’d be easier for you to go after her, right?” Julian’s voice was icy, his dark eyes locked on Claire.
Claire’s heart pounded. There was no way she could admit to anything. If she did, she’d be confirming she was Claire, and there were probably cameras or microphones in the room. That would be all the evidence they needed. She couldn’t let that happen.
She took a second to calm herself, then looked up at Julian with wide, confused eyes. “Mr. Grayson, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Who’s Helene? I don’t know anyone by that name. I have no idea what you mean about hurting anyone. I really don’t understand.”
“You don’t understand?”
“I don’t,” Claire said, her voice steady.
Julian’s eyes glinted dangerously. “Alright. Maybe you’ll understand another way.”
He motioned with his hand. Panic shot through Claire.
“What are you doing? Let me go! Let me go, please!”
She heard chains clatter, heavy and cold. Suddenly, someone yanked her out of her chair. Her arms were pulled above her head, and with a sharp tug, she was lifted off the ground, left hanging in the air.

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