"Eat." He nods at the untouched plate in front of me. "You look like a skeleton."

I hesitate, still unused to this kind of treatment. But when my stomach growls, I give in, picking up my fork.

"You remind me of someone," he says after a while, watching me closely.

I pause mid-bite. "Who?"

His lips press together. "Someone I lost. A long time ago."

I don’t push for details. He doesn’t look like the type to spill his emotions easily.

Instead, I set my fork down and meet his gaze. "Why are you helping me?"

His expression doesn’t change. "Because I can."

I frown. "That’s not an answer."

He leans back in his chair, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "What would you rather be doing? Living on the streets? Chasing after a man who doesn’t want to be found?"

His words hit harder than I expect.

I lower my gaze, gripping my lap under the table.

"I just want my son back," I whisper.

Richard nods. "Then we’ll start there."

I look up, my heart pounding. "We?"

"You think you can fight Ethan Caldwell on your own?" He raises a brow. "You’re nothing to him right now. Just a woman he threw away."

I swallow the lump in my throat. "Then what do I do?"

His eyes darken with something unreadable. "You rise, Claire."

I suck in a breath.

"You become someone powerful," he continues. "Someone untouchable. You don’t just fight Ethan—you make him regret ever throwing you away."

I stare at him, my pulse racing.

"And how do I do that?"

A slow smirk curves his lips. "By becoming someone the world can’t ignore."

***

Richard doesn’t just give me a place to stay—he rebuilds me.

Doctors check every inch of me, making sure I recover from the months of malnutrition and neglect.

Stylists fix my hair, my skin, my nails.

Trainers push me to my limits, forcing me to regain the strength I lost.

Every day is a test.

Every moment is a lesson.

Richard makes sure of that.

"You need to control your emotions," he says as I punch the training bag in his private gym. "Right now, you’re still weak. Driven by pain and rage. That won’t win you battles—it’ll make you reckless."

I grit my teeth, throwing another punch. "What do you want me to do? Smile and pretend I’m fine?"

He tilts his head. "No. I want you to channel it. Use it to your advantage. Make it your weapon, not your weakness."

I exhale sharply, stepping back, sweat dripping down my face.

"I want to hurt him," I admit. "I want him to feel everything I felt."