Chapter 9 - A Father's HeartbreakFor the next twenty-three days, we built a master plan around my survival rather than heroism. But the hardest part was telling my father. Thomas Ashford had built his shipping company from a single leased cargo boat and a loan secured against the small house where I grew up. He was a titan of industry, not easily frightened, but when I sat in his study and told him what Adrian was planning, his hands shook violently.

“I brought that man into our family,” my father said, his voice breaking.
“So did I,” I replied softly.
“I encouraged you to trust him.”
“I made my own choice.”
He looked older than I had ever seen him, the recent heart surgery suddenly evident in the frailty of his posture. “We stop this now,” he demanded. “You never go near that yacht.”
“Then he learns we know. He covers his tracks.”
“I don’t care about the company, Helena!”
“This is bigger than the company. He has corrupted medical records, forged legal documents, and built a story in which my death looks believable. If he is not exposed completely, he may spend the rest of his life telling everyone I misunderstood his intentions.”
My father stood and walked to the window, looking out over the sprawling estate. “You are carrying my granddaughter.”
“I know.”
“And you’re asking me to let you step into the path of a man who actively wants you dead.”
“I’m asking you to trust the people protecting me.”
For a long time, he did not turn around. The silence in the study was heavy. When he finally faced me, tears filled his blue eyes. “Your mother would never forgive me.”
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“My mother would understand why I refuse to spend the rest of my life hiding.”
He agreed on one agonizing condition: he would participate in the final board meeting and personally ensure Adrian believed the plan had succeeded, playing the role of the broken, defeated father. That was how my own death became the most carefully managed black-ops operation in Ashford family history.
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