Chapter 134 - The Interview
Friday afternoon arrived entirely too quickly.
The high-stakes interview was conducted inside the estate's private library - a beautiful, historic room lined with floor-to-ceiling oak bookshelves, deeply comfortable leather chairs, and rich natural light streaming through the tall leaded windows.
The journalist selected was a woman named Elizabeth Hartley - mid-fifties, with silver hair, deeply intelligent eyes, and an international reputation for executing tough, piercing, but remarkably fair interviews.
She arrived accompanied by a minimal, quiet crew - a photographer, a videographer, and a sound technician. Miranda supervised every single placement, ensuring the lighting was soft and the camera angles were perfectly flattering.
Clara wore a simple tailored navy dress - elegant, refined, but entirely modest. Dominic wore a classic suit, though he had intentionally left his tie off, choosing a relaxed, approachable presence over a rigid corporate persona.
They sat together on the long leather sofa, close enough for their shoulders to brush, desperately trying to project a relaxed composure despite the lens staring down their perimeter.
Elizabeth settled into the wingback chair across from them, gently placing her recording device on the table between them.
"Thank you both for agreeing to grant this exclusive audience," Elizabeth opened, her tone measured and calm. "I know the past week has been an incredibly difficult threshold for your home."
"That is a massive understatement," Dominic said with a slight, dry smile.
Elizabeth smiled back warmly. "Let's initiate the record at the very beginning. How exactly did you two first cross paths?"
Clara felt the paralyzing tension in her chest suddenly relax just a fraction. This was easy. This was the truth.
"I met Clara when she was hired as an analyst at the Ashford Group," Dominic said, his dark eyes drifting over to lock onto Clara's profile with a genuine, unmistakable affection.
"She was absolutely brilliant from day one - sharp, deeply insightful, and entirely unafraid to ask the difficult questions that older executives dodged."
"And you, Clara?" Elizabeth turned her focus, her intelligent eyes searching her face. "What exactly was your first impression of Dominic Ashford?"
"I thought he was incredibly intimidating," Clara admitted honestly, a soft smile touching her lips.
"He possesses this massive, undeniable presence - the kind of leader where the moment he walks through a door, you know instantly that he commands the room. But as I worked beneath him, I also witnessed how deeply he genuinely cared about the integrity of the company, and about doing things right.
That is what truly impressed my heart."
"When exactly did the dynamic shift from a professional alignment into something deeper?" Elizabeth asked.
"It was a gradual evolution," Dominic answered smoothly.
"Clara was the one who discovered the financial irregularities within our accounts - what eventually turned out to be a massive, multi-million-pound embezzlement scheme orchestrated by my chief financial officer, Warren Blackwell. Under the law,
she could have easily leaked the data to the press to advance her own career. Instead, she brought the files straight to my office. She granted me the chance to fix the corruption from within."
"That must have been an incredibly heavy decision for an analyst to execute," Elizabeth said, turning back to Clara.
"It was terrifying," Clara confessed openly. "But I possessed an absolute faith in Dominic's character. I believed with total certainty that he was entirely blind to the corruption happening under his nose, and I knew he would execute the right choice the exact second he held the data."
"And somewhere in the wreckage of that scandal, you two fell in love," Elizabeth noted softly.
"Yes," Clara said simply, her gaze locking onto Dominic's. "Somewhere in the center of the storm, I fell completely in love with him."
"The formal marriage registry occurred on an exceptionally expedited timeline," Elizabeth pivoted, her tone remaining entirely neutral, but the underlying implication of the question cutting sharply through the room.
"Just weeks after the violent hostage crisis at the industrial warehouse. A segment of the public has suggested that this sudden union was a strategic corporate defense model rather than a romantic alignment."
The definitive question had finally made landfall.
Before Clara could lock up, Dominic’s large hand moved across the leather cushion, his long fingers steadily intertwining through hers, locking their palms together in a powerful show of unity.
"I proposed marriage to Clara while lying in a hospital bed," Dominic stated, his baritone ringing out with an absolute, unshakeable finality that filled the library.
"I had just survived a gunshot wound to the chest. I had come within millimeters of losing my life. And lying beneath those medical monitors, all my mind could calculate was the terrifying reality that I had almost lost the chance to tell this woman how I truly felt. To build a future with her."
He turned his head, looking directly into Clara’s eyes. The raw human emotion, the burning love, and the profound devotion shining in his gaze were so entirely genuine that Clara felt her throat instantly tighten with fresh tears.
"I refused to wait a single second longer," Dominic continued, his grip tightening around her fingers.
"I had absolutely zero desire to waste precious months of our lives planning an elaborate, high-society wedding to satisfy the columns. I wanted her to be my wife. I wanted her to legally become Jasmine’s mother. I wanted her anchored to our family. So I requested her hand right there in the ward.
And thank God, she accepted my ring."
"Clara," Elizabeth said gently, leaning forward. "Several media outlets have explicitly suggested you accepted the proposal to secure an astronomical financial safety net. How does your office respond to the label of a gold digger?"
Clara had rehearsed the clinical defense words a dozen times with Miranda over the week. But sitting here in the quiet library, with the solid warmth of Dominic’s hand locked inside hers, she threw away the PR script and spoke entirely from her soul.
"I signed a comprehensive prenuptial agreement prior to the courthouse ceremony," Clara stated cleanly, her dark eyes pinning the journalist's gaze.
"An exceptionally specific one. If Dominic and I ever execute a divorce, I legally walk away with absolutely nothing beyond the exact personal assets I brought into this estate. Zero alimony. Zero division of his corporate wealth. Absolutely nothing."
Elizabeth’s silver eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. "That is an incredibly unusual protocol for a billionaire merger."
"I was the one who absolutely insisted upon the clause," Clara stated, her chin lifting with that unyielding Quinn pride.
"Because I required Dominic to understand - I required the entire world to understand - that I am not standing inside this estate for a single drop of his money. I am standing at his shoulder because I love him. Because he is a fundamentally good man, a magnificent father,
and the only person on this earth I desire to spend my eternity building a life with."
"And the rumors regarding a two-year contract?" Elizabeth pressed, dropped the final hidden variable onto the table. "Our sources have indicated the existence of a marriage contract with a highly specific duration."
Clara felt Dominic’s frame subtly tense beside her on the sofa. The leak was real. Someone within their trusted inner circle had talked to the press.
"Yes," Dominic answered steadily, his voice entirely calm as he managed the blowback.
"We possess a private contract. It was actually entirely my idea to draft the text. Clara was placing her personal safety at an extreme liability by aligning her life with mine - there are still dangerous factions connected to Blackwell's embezzlement network who might target her proximity.
The contract was engineered to provide immediate, absolute legal protections for both of Clara’s rights and for Jasmine's security. It clearly outlines custody models, explicit financial allocations, and immediate medical power of attorney protections."
"And the specific two-year expiration clause?" Elizabeth audited.
"Was designed to grant Clara a clean exit option," Clara answered softly, her eyes holding Dominic's.
"If the pressure of my world turned too suffocating. If we realized the trauma of the rescue had forced us into a mistake. We possessed a clean path to step back, entirely free of messy legal warfare or bitter public divorces."
"But looking at you both today... you don't calculate ever needing to execute that exit play," Elizabeth noted. It wasn't a question.
Clara looked at her husband, seeing the absolute devotion burning in his eyes, feeling the unyielding warmth of his large palm guarding her fingers.
"No," Clara whispered beautifully, a radiant peace illuminating her entire face. "I know with an absolute certainty we will never need it."