Chapter 362

"Let Miss Stanton in." Claude set his pen down, his expression composed yet keenly alert.

Owen nodded and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

Soon, the office door swung open, and Erica stepped inside. She approached the imposing desk, her smile a delicate balance of politeness and cunning."MMr. Hobbes. A privilege to meet you at last."

Claude's gaze lifted slowly, his eyes glinting with unveiled contempt. "Adopted daughter of the Jones family.Vincent's aunt in name alone." His voice sharpened, cutting like a blade. "You have no standing here, let alone a deal worth my time."

Erica's smile wavered briefly but held firm. Undeterred, she leaned forward, planting both hands on the desk's cold surface, her eyes locking onto his with defiance. "You took this meeting, Mr. Hobbes. That tells me you know I have something you need. Am I mistaken?"

Claude didn't retort. He eased back in his chair, fingers laced with calculated calm across his lap. "Speak.What kind of deal are you offering?"

Erica drew a steadying breath, her gaze alight with fierce determination."|t′Ss straightforward. We combine forces-to free Hannah from Vincent's grasp."

A cold,derisive smirk curved Claude's lips. "I don't need your help to rescue her."

"But you've already failed once," she shot back, her tone smooth yet edged with triumph. "At the funeral,wasn't it? You underestimated him. The moment he realizes Hannah's gone, he'll tear the world apart to find her."

Claude's eyes darkened, a shadow crossing his features.

Erica had been at that funeral, initially just to witness the chaos. Instead, she'd seen Vincent-wild,unraveling, consumed by his desperation for Hannah. He loved Hannah. Fiercely. Obsessively.

And Erica's hatred for Hannah had only deepened since. Worse, Vincent had begun prying into her secrets.

Exposure loomed, which was precisely why she stood here now, wagering everything on a perilous gambit."| can ensure Vincent stops pursuing her," she declared, her voice taut with a blend of desperation and

conviction.

Claude's eyes narrowed. The claim was ludicrous. To make Vincent give up on Hannah? Impossible.Unless...

He studied her closely, his voice low and probing. "You've gone to all this effort-for what? Out of kindness?"

She straightened, her gaze blazing. "Of course not. I want Vincent. He should have been mine from the start."

She exhaled, her voice taking on a chilling yearning. "I'll undergo plastic surgery to become Hannah's mirror image. I'll mimic her movements, her speech, her very smile. I'll become Hannah, and I'll take her place." Her smile stretched, unhinged yet resolute. "He'll cage me. Claim me. Love me-believing I'm her. And you? You and the real Hannah can be together, with no one to interfere."

In her warped reasoning, her plan was flawless. She would have Vincent, even i it meant wearing a stolen face and name. His blunt rejection over the phone had made it clear-he would never love her as she was.But as Hannah Scott? He would. It was a solid deal. More crucially, a new identity would let her slip the law's grasp, leaving her past sins behind.

Claude had suspected something this twisted, but hearing it aloud still sent a chill through him.

The office sank into a heavy, stifling silence. Only Erica's slightly quickened breaths, tinged with agitation,broke the stillness.

Claude regarded the woman before him-this utterly unhinged woman. Intriguing. It was, undeniably, a brilliant plan. He had to concede, in some ways, they were disturbingly alike.

A low chuckle escaped him before he extended a hand toward her.′′Apleasure to work with you."

Erica didn't hesitate. She clasped his hand firmly. "The pleasure's mine."

Their handshake was brief. A fleeting contact, and then nothing.

Within the seclude suite, Vincent stirred, his eyes fluttering open as the realization hit-he had fallen asleep in Hannah's room, in her bed. And not just that. He had slept deeply, undisturbed.

Across the room, Hannah was already awake, moving gracefully in the small kitchenette attached to the suite.

He turned his head, his gaze lingering on her.

Sensing his attention, she spoke without looking back. "You're up? Want to rest a bit longer?"

Vincent's lips parted, an instinct to explain rising-that he hadn't meant to drift off beside her. He'd only wanted to ensure she was still there. He hadn't planned to stay, much less sleep beside her. But the words stayed trapped in his throat. What was there to justify? She was his. Her bed, her room, her very being...all belonged to him. His presence here was rightfully so.

He masked the flicker of emotion in his eyes, slipping back into his usual composure. "What are you doing?"he asked, his gaze sweeping over her.

Without turning, her hands still busy, Hannah replied, "I asked the staff for some ingredients. I'm making something.A soup."

His brows furrowed slightly. "The staff can handle cooking. You don't need to bother."

Her hands kept moving, but she glanced over her shoulder, meeting his eyes briefly. "But you haven't been eating properly,have you?"