Claimed by the Crown Heir novel Chapter 29

"I remember."

Nolan nodded. "Your fate was unknown at the time. Grandpa Howard mobilized absolutely everyone to search for you, but they couldn't find a single trace. We genuinely thought you were dead. Then, a month later, you came back without a scratch on you."

The Nash and Howard families were close allies. He and Ace had known each other since childhood, and that incident was permanently burned into his memory.

"Are you saying the girl who saved and took care of you was Vanessa?"

Alistair nodded, his eyes darkening. "Yeah. She had been sent back to Savannah years ago to live with Gregory Grant for a while."

Gregory Grant had survived a near-fatal illness at the age of thirty-five. Since then, he became obsessed with botanical medicine. After arranging George's marriage, he handed the company over and went to study under the master herbalist who had saved his life.

He lived full-time in Savannah's Mount Valerius.

That year, his driver had been taking him to his grandfather's estate in Savannah when they were tracked and forced off the road at Mount Valerius. The driver stalled the assassins to give him time to escape.

The attackers had guns and killed the driver. Before he could find a place to hide, he was chased over the edge of a cliff.

By pure chance, Gregory Grant had taken a six-year-old Vanessa out to forage for medicinal herbs. They found him covered in blood and carried him back.

When he woke up seven days later, the first thing he saw was a pair of bright, wide eyes belonging to a beautifully delicate little girl.

"Mister, does it hurt? Nessa will kiss it better, and the pain will fly away."

Her soft, sweet voice had instantly soothed his terrified, frayed nerves.

Once he recovered, Gregory Grant arranged for his safe return.

After that, he was sent abroad and never saw her again, completely unaware of her name.

Three years ago, he finally uncovered her identity and intended to use the marriage alliance to get close to her.

He never expected her to run off to Savannah in the middle of the night.

By the time he got the news and went after her, he was too late.

She already had a boyfriend.

Nolan looked completely taken aback. "Are you absolutely sure about the investigation? Is there any chance you have the wrong person?"

She had just checked her account balance of four million dollars. That should be more than enough to win the painting.

As long as no one decided to write a blank check.

On the second floor of the auction house, inside a private VIP box.

Alistair sat in a plush armchair, his legs crossed, the picture of aristocratic elegance.

"I checked for you. Only the grandmaster's painting is going up today. The painted folding fan is being held back for the next auction."

Nolan handed him a glass of 18-year-old single malt whiskey.

Alistair took it and took a slow sip.

It went down as smooth as silk, the sweet, fruity notes mingling perfectly with the long, lingering finish of oak.

"Good taste."

"A friend sent me a crate of it. If you like it, I'll have half a crate sent to your place later."