Page 52 of The Omega Switch: Part 2

“They were her formulas. You know that, George. She made all of them.” I said, my voice dangerous.

“They were developed under our roof.” He argued.

“She’s your daughter.” The words came out sharp.

“That does not make her exempt from consequences,” George said dismissively. “And they are our patents. The law is the law.”

I thought of Ivy standing in the private dining room, pale but composed, asking whether she would have to close her store. I remembered how she was so surprised and grateful for any show of kindness. Her own parents had done that to her - the people who should have protected her. Before I could respond, another voice erupted in the background.

“Give me the phone.” There was muffled arguing, then Clara came onto the line. “Haven’t you done enough?” she demanded. I closed my eyes briefly as I tried not to lose my cool.

“Clara. What a pleasure.” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Why should we listen to a word from your pack? You are dishonorable, all of you! You left Arabella after publicly claiming her as your match. Do you have any idea how hard it was on her to be rejected like that? Scum, is what you are!” She went on, and I pulled the phone away for a minute while she ranted. When it seemed like she was finally out of breath, I put the phone back up to my ear.

“Stop. If you don’t rein in your daughter, I’ll tell my own truth about the fraud and lie that your daughter perpetuated.” I said calmly. Clara exploded.

“You were going to destroy Arabella anyway,” she yelled. “You and your pack made that perfectly clear. So she might as well speak her truth!”

“She committed fraud,” I repeated.

“She was trying to protect her future,” Clara argued.

“Her future didn’t need to come at Ivy’s expense,” I said, my patience growing thin.

Clara gave a brittle laugh. “Ivy has always been jealous of her.”

“Lady, you must be truly insane to believe that,” I said, shaking my head. "Honestly, part of me wants to feel bad for you and your psycho daughter."

“You know nothing,” Clara snapped. “Ivy has always been difficult. She never understood what it took to build a public company or maintain a family’s reputation. You are being manipulated.”

The certainty of her words stopped me. They truly believed Ivy was the problem, or had said it so often that they convinced themselves. There was no argument I could make that would reach people determined to protect themselves from reality.

“This is your final warning,” I said. “If Arabella continues implying Ivy stole her work or interfered with our courtship, we will set the record straight publicly. If any member of your family encourages harassment against Ivy or her business, there will be hell to pay. Ronan wanted to handle this his way, which would be very, very painful for all of you. I can't hold him back forever. Think about that.”

I ended the call before I could hear any more of her rants. Then, I made another call, to the private investigator I’d hired earlier. I stood and moved toward the window, trying to organize the thoughts that had been circling since Clara took the phone. There had always been something about her I didn’t understand. Clara had such tight control over the household, and I was still trying to understand the part she played in everything that happened. I knew from Ivy that Clara had belonged to another pack before, and that the bond had been severed. That was rare enough to draw attention.

The investigator picked up, and I told him what I needed. “What do we know about Clara Carrington before she bonded the Carrington pack?” I asked.

“Not much beyond basic history. She had a former pack bond. The records are partially sealed.” He said.

“Find out why the bond was severed,” I said. “Who initiated it, what allegations were made, whether money changed hands, and why the records were sealed,” I said.

“Will do.”

After the call ended, I returned to my desk. If Ivy’s family wanted to fight, then a war is what they would get. And I would fight just as dirty as they did.

Chapter 25

Ivy

“You’re going to want to hear this.”

That’s all Hunter said when he asked to meet with me, his voice urgent over the phone. I knew he’d been working hard to help me with my legal issues regarding the patents - to be honest, he was working on it more than I was. I wasn’t even sure where to begin - the records I kept were all left behind when I ran away.

But I had agreed to speak with him. I asked him to meet me outside, in a nearby park. I didn’t want any more stressful news delivered in my boutique, which was supposed to be my sanctuary.

Also, I needed to get away from everything. Between the vandalism, the social media posts, and the never-ending new drama that popped up, it seemed like I couldn’t escape from my old life.