Convicted
Page 103
Claire rested her head on his shoulder and gently wove her fingers through his chest hair. Tony’s eyes stared up to the dark ceiling as his voice resonated distantly, overflowing with pain. Although there were times Tony’s confessions upset her, Claire knew in her heart that there was nothing she could say that would punish him more than he was already punishing himself.
He spoke slowly, revisiting the subject of him watching her through the years. He explained how, at first, it was done as a means of identification. He and Catherine had a list—the children of the children. In the early years, Tony was busy creating CSR with his business partner Jonas Smithers. Later, his energies were used creating and building Rawlings Industries. He supported his grandfather’s vendetta, but Catherine did, or had, most of the research done. He emphasized that he wasn’t blaming her. “I never tried to stop her. It never occurred to me—I mean—it’s what my grandfather wanted. He mentioned it to me—Catherine knew more of his plans, so I went along.” He stressed, “Claire, I more than went along. She would never have been able to afford to have the people, like you, watched, or have things occur, if I hadn’t bankrolled everything. I knew what I was supporting.”
Claire nodded into his chest. It was her way of encouraging his words, without interrupting his thoughts.
“You were different.” His arm tightened around her shoulder, pulling her closer. “You were the first person who personally interested me. You were so young. I was curious if I could actually influence someone’s life without them knowing it. The first thing I did—well, it wasn’t really to you. It was—”
The warmth radiating from within Claire suddenly increased; she couldn’t stay silent any longer. The subject he was approaching was one of her greatest worries. Simon! She lifted her head to see Tony’s eyes. “It was Simon, wasn’t it?” She tried to keep her voice and breathing calm. “His internship with Rawlings Industries wasn’t a coincidence, was it?”
Tony closed his eyes and didn’t respond.
As the silence prevailed, Claire exhaled, lay her head back on her pillow and stared at the ceiling. The fan in the darkness hummed while the blades created a hazy blur. In the time it took her to blink, Tony’s face was over hers. She’d wanted to see his eyes and understand his emotion, and now, she had him right on top of her. His palpable rage filled their room, the humid air no longer moved, and it was suddenly difficult to breathe. Claire’s training told her to walk the fine line; however, somewhere in the three years since that training began, she’d taught herself to disobey. Defiantly, she asked, “Are you going to answer my question?”
“No.” His warm breath bathed her face, adding to the still, humid air.
She waited for more clarification. When he didn’t continue, she asked, “No? You aren’t going to answer?”
“No”—each syllable was strained—“it wasn’t a coincidence.”
The fury, which had saturated their conversation, evaporated as Claire’s muscles relaxed and the air re-entered her lungs. With his confession, she realized the anger she felt wasn’t directed at her or her questioning, it was directed back to Tony—he was upset with himself.
The rumble of thunder loomed louder and closer. With their noses almost touching, Claire smiled. “Thank you. I know this is hard on you. I also know that revelation should upset me.” She lifted her lips to his. “Honestly, it was more of a confirmation than a revelation. Somehow, I think I feel better knowing the truth, no matter what it is.”
Tony sighed. “I hope so, because my dear, there’s more.”
Claire closed her eyes, unsure how much more she was ready to hear.
“Open your eyes”—Tony demanded—“I need to see what you’re thinking.” Obediently, she did as he said. His next confession came with more emotion than she was accustomed to hearing from him. “My life hasn’t been perfect, yet I’ve never wasted my time envying anyone else. If something wasn’t the best it could be—I made it better. Never did I want to be someone else. That’s still true; however, there’s one person of whom I was jealous.”
“Simon? Why?”
“He was the only man I knew of that you loved. I did what I do—I made it better—for me. I separated the two of you.” Tony shook his head. “So you can imagine how shocked I was when he showed up at the symposium in Chicago. When he approached us, I didn’t know who he was until he asked to speak with you privately. Suddenly, I recognized him”—he paused—“Then...it was you I didn’t recognize.”
He spoke slowly, revisiting the subject of him watching her through the years. He explained how, at first, it was done as a means of identification. He and Catherine had a list—the children of the children. In the early years, Tony was busy creating CSR with his business partner Jonas Smithers. Later, his energies were used creating and building Rawlings Industries. He supported his grandfather’s vendetta, but Catherine did, or had, most of the research done. He emphasized that he wasn’t blaming her. “I never tried to stop her. It never occurred to me—I mean—it’s what my grandfather wanted. He mentioned it to me—Catherine knew more of his plans, so I went along.” He stressed, “Claire, I more than went along. She would never have been able to afford to have the people, like you, watched, or have things occur, if I hadn’t bankrolled everything. I knew what I was supporting.”
Claire nodded into his chest. It was her way of encouraging his words, without interrupting his thoughts.
“You were different.” His arm tightened around her shoulder, pulling her closer. “You were the first person who personally interested me. You were so young. I was curious if I could actually influence someone’s life without them knowing it. The first thing I did—well, it wasn’t really to you. It was—”
The warmth radiating from within Claire suddenly increased; she couldn’t stay silent any longer. The subject he was approaching was one of her greatest worries. Simon! She lifted her head to see Tony’s eyes. “It was Simon, wasn’t it?” She tried to keep her voice and breathing calm. “His internship with Rawlings Industries wasn’t a coincidence, was it?”
Tony closed his eyes and didn’t respond.
As the silence prevailed, Claire exhaled, lay her head back on her pillow and stared at the ceiling. The fan in the darkness hummed while the blades created a hazy blur. In the time it took her to blink, Tony’s face was over hers. She’d wanted to see his eyes and understand his emotion, and now, she had him right on top of her. His palpable rage filled their room, the humid air no longer moved, and it was suddenly difficult to breathe. Claire’s training told her to walk the fine line; however, somewhere in the three years since that training began, she’d taught herself to disobey. Defiantly, she asked, “Are you going to answer my question?”
“No.” His warm breath bathed her face, adding to the still, humid air.
She waited for more clarification. When he didn’t continue, she asked, “No? You aren’t going to answer?”
“No”—each syllable was strained—“it wasn’t a coincidence.”
The fury, which had saturated their conversation, evaporated as Claire’s muscles relaxed and the air re-entered her lungs. With his confession, she realized the anger she felt wasn’t directed at her or her questioning, it was directed back to Tony—he was upset with himself.
The rumble of thunder loomed louder and closer. With their noses almost touching, Claire smiled. “Thank you. I know this is hard on you. I also know that revelation should upset me.” She lifted her lips to his. “Honestly, it was more of a confirmation than a revelation. Somehow, I think I feel better knowing the truth, no matter what it is.”
Tony sighed. “I hope so, because my dear, there’s more.”
Claire closed her eyes, unsure how much more she was ready to hear.
“Open your eyes”—Tony demanded—“I need to see what you’re thinking.” Obediently, she did as he said. His next confession came with more emotion than she was accustomed to hearing from him. “My life hasn’t been perfect, yet I’ve never wasted my time envying anyone else. If something wasn’t the best it could be—I made it better. Never did I want to be someone else. That’s still true; however, there’s one person of whom I was jealous.”
“Simon? Why?”
“He was the only man I knew of that you loved. I did what I do—I made it better—for me. I separated the two of you.” Tony shook his head. “So you can imagine how shocked I was when he showed up at the symposium in Chicago. When he approached us, I didn’t know who he was until he asked to speak with you privately. Suddenly, I recognized him”—he paused—“Then...it was you I didn’t recognize.”
