“Miss Nichols, it’s okay. It’s normal—your stomach has been empty for too long. Ms. Nichols, your pain medicine has started to wear off. I’ll get you some more, but I want you to be thinking straight. Please tell me what happened.”

Claire was now trembling and crying. Tony wanted to go back in the room. “I need to stop this. She isn’t strong enough right now. Why can’t he see that? He can do this another time.”

“He can,” Catherine said. “That’s why he’s pushing. He’s hoping to catch her at her weakest.”

Catherine’s words burned deep. She was right. Dr. Leonard came across as nice and trustworthy, but here was evidence of how methodical and dubious he truly was. Tony refocused on his screen. The doctor gave Claire more water but instructed her to only rinse and spit into the basin. She began to speak, “I went for a walk in the woods … I like the woods … it rained the day before … and the ground was slippery in some spots … I made it into the woods fine … but I let it get dark … I watched the sun set … I remember it being crimson and beautiful.” She laid her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes.

“Please continue, Ms. Nichols.”

“So it was dark by the time I headed back to the house. I remember getting to the clearing—which is about forty-five minutes from here. The sun … I mean, the moon … was bright … I tried to get back … Catherine had dinner waiting for me.” Her words slowed and slurred.

Tony started to move and Catherine touched his arm. “It’s too late,” she whispered.

He nodded as his heart pounded rapidly in his chest. Dr. Leonard spoke softly. “Ms. Nichols, did you make it back to the house?”

“I don’t remember.” Claire’s voice became stronger. “I remember slipping in the mud. There were roots and limbs. It was very dark under the trees. After that, I just don’t know.”

“Please know, Ms. Nichols, anything you disclose to me is said in confidence. I’m bound by complete patient-doctor confidentiality.”

“Doctor, I’m not sure what you’re asking me or what you’re implying, but I can’t remember what happened that night. Perhaps I hit my head?” Her eyes were open and brimming with tears. “Please, may I rest?”

The look of surprise that Tony saw on Catherine’s face was surely a reflection of his own. For another moment, they both stood in silence.

“Well then,” Catherine finally said, “congratulations, you did it. I doubted you, but you did it.”

Tony put his phone in his pocket and fell against the corridor wall. “We did.”

Just then the door to the suite opened. “Mr. Rawlings, Ms. Nichols is very tired, but you’re welcome to come back in. Let me explain my findings …”

Manipulation, fueled with good intent, can be a blessing. But when used wickedly, it is the beginning of a magician's karmic calamity.

—T.F. Hodge

Tony had been mulling the idea over and over in his head since Claire first woke from her accident. At first, it was only a fleeting thought, but then he would remember what it was like to be without Claire, and the idea of making her presence more permanent would seep into his mind. The way he saw it, Claire passed the ultimate test when she followed his rules and kept private information private. She’d had the opportunity to tell Dr. Leonard what truly happened—not just the accident. That would’ve been the tip of the iceberg—one story would have led to another. Oh, Tony had contingency plans. That’s why he purposely created the gold-digging persona, but with her injuries, public opinion would’ve undoubtedly gone in her direction. Tony may have been able to keep it out of the media—he was prepared to pay Dr. Leonard an exorbitant amount of money to maintain his secrets—yet thanks to Claire’s obedience, it never went that far. She had the perfect opportunity to expose him, and she didn’t.

Starting that day in the hallway, as he listened to her with Dr. Leonard, through her recovery, onto their car ride when he took her to the meadow, confessed his behavior and she responded favorably, Tony began to see that Claire was the woman he wanted in his life. Anthony Rawlings usually got what he wanted. When he carried Claire to his bedroom after their car ride, it was his ultimate invitation. In all the years he’d lived on his estate, he’d never taken a woman to his bedroom. He didn’t need to. He could take them to hotels or to their place. On the rare occasion that he brought a woman to the estate, he had plenty of bedrooms. No one, not one other woman, had ever seen his private suite—his ultimate personal space. Claire didn’t know that, but Tony did. When he carried her from the car to his room, he opened a part of himself that he’d never shown to anyone else. It was a meaningful gift that she didn’t know she’d received.

Months ago, he’d taken a strong young woman and refined her. Tony supposed it was like the process with gold, where excessive heat removes the impurities. In his process, he’d taken Claire into the fire and come away with the perfect companion—wife? Until recently, he’d never imagined marrying—anyone. Until recently, there’d been no one who could handle the job. Claire proved that she could handle it and more. She knew how to appropriately behave in public and in private. She was pleasing to the eye and even more pleasing to be with. Without planning to do so, Tony and Catherine had created the perfect Mrs. Rawlings.