Chapter 3: Night of Rebirth
1809 Words
The sound of the slap echoed sharply through Enigma's VIP section. Vivian Winchester stood in disbelief, holding her cheek, her carefully crafted makeup now ruined on one side. The room fell dead silent, even the pulsing bass seemed to have been put on pause.
Countless phone cameras captured the moment, camera flashes lighting up the scene like strobe lights. Claire's hand remained suspended in the air, while she felt Blackwood's grip tighten protectively around her waist, offering silent support.
"You... you dare to slap me?" Vivian's voice trembled. "Do you know who I am?"
James stood frozen, looking like he'd swallowed a live fish. He glanced helplessly between Vivian and Claire, completely at a loss. The Winchester family's influence was not to be trifled with, but Claire's performance tonight, and especially the presence of Blackwood beside her, filled him with deep unease.
Suddenly, the crowd parted like the Red Sea. A tall figure strode through, impeccably dressed in a bespoke suit, his presence commanding. His appearance made the Winchester family representatives visibly pale.
"Chase Hamilton?" Someone gasped. "What's he doing here?"
Claire's heart skipped a beat at her eldest brother's sudden appearance. Chase's gaze lingered on her face for a moment before turning to Blackwood, the two men exchanging a knowing look.
"Ham... Hamilton?" James stammered, his face turning ashen. As a business elite, he knew exactly what the Hamilton name meant. He stared at Claire in disbelief, finally understanding what he had thrown away.
Vivian also grasped the gravity of the situation. Her trembling fingers reached for her phone to contact the family PR team, but Isabella "accidentally" bumped into her, sending the phone crashing to the floor, its screen shattering.
"Oh, sorry about that," Isabella feigned apology while ensuring her own phone captured everything.
"Claire," Chase spoke, his voice deep and authoritative, "it's time to go."
Blackwood guided Claire toward the exit, his hand steady at her waist. Though her fingers trembled slightly, she maintained perfect composure. Years of suppression and endurance had finally reached their breaking point.
Blake Hamilton was already waiting at the club's back entrance, directing security teams to secure an exit route while Christian handled the swarming media up front.
"Miss Hamilton's official statement will be released in due course," Christian's voice was professionally detached. "Evidence regarding the Winchester family's irregular operations will also be disclosed at an appropriate time."
As the Rolls-Royce door closed, Claire's carefully maintained composure finally crumbled. Her shoulders began to shake as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. Chase immediately pulled his sister into his arms.
"I'm sorry," her voice broke, "I'm sorry I disappointed you all..."
"Don't be ridiculous," Chase stroked her back, his voice uncharacteristically gentle for a notorious business titan. "We're the ones who let you down. If we had stepped in earlier..."
Blake sat across from them, his expression complex. "Claire, you've never disappointed the family. It was Father... it was us who were too presumptuous."
In the Rolls-Royce, Claire sobbed against Chase's shoulder while Blake offered her his handkerchief. "All these years," Blake sighed, "Father has been living with regret."
"Regret what?" Claire looked up. "Regret making me leave the family?"
"Regret not protecting you better," Chase exhaled heavily. "Remember the kidnapping attempt when you were sixteen?"
Claire stiffened. That had been the pivotal moment in her life—a meticulously planned kidnapping targeting the Hamilton family. Though she was rescued safely, the incident had completely changed her father's mind.
"After that," Blake continued, "Father made an agonizing decision. He used every connection he had to erase his public ties to the Hamilton family. Changed your school records, replaced your social circle, let you live as a regular person."
"Even our meetings had to be carefully orchestrated," Chase added. "Every Hamilton company was under strict orders never to reveal its identity. Father even bought out any media that might expose the truth."
Claire reflected on all the "coincidences" over the years—how her resumes always passed screenings, how her apartment buildings were inexplicably secure, how she never encountered paparazzi during daily shopping. Everything had been meticulously orchestrated.
"But why..." she hesitated.
"Why allow your identity to be revealed now?" Blake gave a bitter smile. "Because the situation is more critical than we anticipated. The Winchester family somehow caught wind of your background and started investigating. Rather than let them uncover the truth, we decided to take control of the narrative."
"Moreover," Chase's voice turned serious, "you're no longer that little girl who needs protection. The woman you are now is more than capable of handling everything this identity brings."
Blackwood had been silently listening to the conversation. He knew far more than was being discussed—about the true nature of the kidnapping attempt, about the Winchester family's ambitions, and about the agreement between his father and Walter. But now wasn't the time to reveal everything.
Claire wiped away her tears, her gaze growing steadier. Yes, she was no longer that vulnerable young girl who needed protection. Since fate had chosen to unveil the truth this way, she would face it on her own terms.
The atmosphere in the car grew heavy. Claire leaned against her brother, his custom suit damped with her tears. Years of suppressed emotions—the disillusionment with love, self-doubt, guilt towards her family—all came flooding out like a broken dam.
"That day," she choked out, "he said I wasn't good enough for the Winchester family. Said I was just a regular employee who could never understand high society's rules." A bitter laugh escaped her. "The irony is, his chosen 'high society' turned out to be our family's adversaries."
Chase's fists clenched, his knuckles white. Blake pulled out another handkerchief, gently wiping his sister's tears.
"Father's in the hospital," Blake suddenly announced.
Claire's head snapped up. "What?"
"After last week's board meeting," Chase explained, "he had a heart attack. The doctors say it's from accumulated stress... The Winchester family has been secretly acquiring our shares, and he's been trying to outmaneuver them."
"So that's why you appeared tonight?" Claire turned to Blackwood.
His lips curved into a subtle smile. "Partly. But more importantly..." His eyes met hers directly, "I thought it was time for the Hamilton princess to reclaim her throne."
Outside the car window, neon lights flickered through the darkness of Manhattan. In the interplay of light and shadow, Claire's eyes grew increasingly determined. She straightened up, wiping away her final tears. "Tell me everything. I need to know all the details."
Blake pulled a file from his briefcase: "The Winchester family has acquired fifteen percent of our shares through offshore companies. They're planning a hostile takeover at next month's board meeting."
"And James and Vivian..." Claire mused.
"They're just pawns," Chase said coldly. "The Winchester family needed inside operatives, and they were the perfect candidates."
The Rolls-Royce glided smoothly into the Hamilton family's private estate. The massive iron gates gleamed coldly in the moonlight, Grecian columns standing austere and imposing. This place held countless memories—both of childhood laughter and her resolute departure.
"I won't suppress tonight's news," Claire suddenly announced.
All three men turned to look at her.
"Let the media run with it," she smiled coolly. "Let everyone know that Claire Wilson is actually Claire Hamilton. Let them realize they chose the wrong opponent."
"Claire..." Blake looked at his sister with concern.
"I'm fine," she shook her head. "I'm not that helpless little girl anymore. If they want to play, let's give them a game worth playing." She turned to Blackwood. "I'll need your help."
His penetrating gaze flashed with approval. "Anytime."
"I want to return to Hamilton Group openly," Claire's voice was firm. "Not as a victim, but as an heir. As for the Winchester family..." a cold smile played on her lips, "I'll show them what 'high society' really means."
The car stopped at the mansion's entrance. The butler respectfully opened the door, moonlight bathing Claire's elegant figure. At this moment, she was no longer the betrayed ex-wife, but the phoenix rising from the ashes—the true heir to the Hamilton dynasty.
A storm capable of reshaping New York's business landscape was about to break.
Inside the mansion, family portraits lined the mahogany-paneled walls, generations of Hamiltons gazing down with patrician authority. Claire's heels clicked against the marble floor as she walked through the familiar hallway, memories flooding back with each step.
"Your room is exactly as you left it," Chase said softly. "Father wouldn't let anyone change a thing."
They gathered in the study—a room that epitomized old money with its leather-bound books, antique desk, and the unmistakable scent of aged wood and success. Claire ran her fingers along the desk's edge, remembering how she used to watch her father work there.
"Show me everything," she said, turning to face them. "No more protection, no more secrets."
Blake spread several documents across the desk. "The Winchester family had been planning this for years. They've been systematically targeting our key projects, using shell companies to avoid detection."
"But why now?" Claire asked, scanning the financial reports.
"This." Blackwood handed her a sealed envelope. Inside was an old photograph—her father as a young man, standing with another gentleman. Both wore Harvard Business School uniforms, but something about their stance suggested tension rather than friendship.
"Alexander Winchester," Chase explained. "Vivian's grandfather. He and Father were... complicated rivals."
"It's more than rivalry," Blackwood's voice was grave. "The Winchester family believes they were cheated out of their rightful share of a joint venture thirty years ago. Your kidnapping attempt wasn't random—it was their first move for revenge."
Claire's hands trembled slightly as she absorbed this information. "And now they're making their final play?"
"Yes," Blake confirmed. "With Father hospitalized and our shares vulnerable, they see their chance. But they didn't count on one thing."
"Me," Claire finished, her voice steady. "They have no idea about the real Claire Hamilton."
"Which gives us our advantage," Blackwood added, his eyes meeting hers with unexpected warmth. "Sometimes the best defense is a surprising offense."
Chase pulled out his phone, showing her the latest stock reports. "We need to move fast. The market's already responding to tonight's events."
Claire stood, walking to the window. Manhattan's skyline glittered in the distance—beautiful, treacherous, and full of possibility. Just like the game she was about to play.
"Tomorrow," she said without turning around, "I want a press conference. It's time for New York to meet the real Claire Hamilton." She faced her brothers and Blackwood. "No more hiding, no more running. Let's show the Winchesters what they're really up against."
The men exchanged glances, seeing in Claire's eyes the same steel that had made the Hamilton family legendary. The pieces were set, the players ready.
The game was about to begin.
- Writer
