Chapter 18 - The Ashes of the Old Life
The penthouse was swarming with heavily armed SWAT officers and paramedics within minutes.
The attackers had either been killed by Eleanor’s security detail or apprehended in the lobby below. The syndicate’s desperate attempt to reclaim their leverage had failed spectacularly.
Claire lay on a stretcher, exhausted, covered in sweat and dust, but she felt absolutely no pain.
She looked down at the tiny, perfectly healthy baby boy resting on her chest, wrapped tightly in Eleanor’s jacket.
"He's beautiful," Eleanor wept, standing by the stretcher and gently stroking the baby's dark hair.
"What are you going to name him?" a paramedic asked gently as they prepared to wheel her out.
Claire looked at her mother, feeling the undeniable, powerful blood of the Crawford dynasty surging through her veins. She was no longer the weak, orphaned victim Richard had tried to discard in a hotel lobby. That woman had died in the crossfire.
"Leo," she whispered, her voice strong and absolute. "Leo Waverly Crawford."
May you like
Not Sterling. The name Sterling was permanently erased from her life.
She reached out, taking her mother's hand. "Let's go home, Mom."
