For now, her home was an apartment in London. The last time she ever had to deal with an apartment was when her last name was Harper and being a penniless woman was simply expected when it came to that name. During her relationship with Dominik Wright, the two shared a crowded loft that hardly offered room to move since Dominik's paintings and supplies took up the vast majority of their living space. Constantly, he promised that someday he would be able to do better for her and even though she wanted to believe him, she knew deep down that she never could. People made promises and the only reason a promise seemed to hold so much value to a person was due to their hopes of it being kept; meaning, there was a fifty percent chance that the other party would hold to their end of the bargain, and a fifty percent chance that they wouldn't. Experienced proved time and time again that Victoria's matters were always settled by the latter. So when she was promised something, she never actually took it seriously. And knowing that his pockets contained nothing but lint reminded her that the man was nothing but a painter. A brilliant painter, but only when it came to counterfeits. Other than that, his muse was unable to kick into gear. In all of their years apart during her marriage, he failed to finish his original painting of Victoria. She loved it anyway, but their short lived rekindling proved what she suspected all along. He still rented out tiny lofts and never did he stay long. Conrad forcing him to leave was devastating to Victoria several weeks ago, but she knew deep down that he eventually would have drifted elsewhere soon enough anyway. It was simply the fact that her divorce had failed to keep Conrad Grayson from dictating her life.
This, however, was quite the game changer. Victoria Grayson was nothing but a ghost since the night she failed to make it over to Washington D.C. in an effort to finally exonerate David Clarke. Instead, the trip was interrupted by an explosion on the jet that would leave no survivors. She knew Conrad was a smart man and it was very poetic of him to try to kill Victoria with a tragic jet mishap, seeing how David's downfall was connected to an ill-fated flight many years ago. Poetic it was, but she couldn't help but feel as though that would someday bite him in the ass later on. How dumb did he assume the world was? How many times could his name be traced back to deadly plane mishaps before the blame was finally pointed his way? Perhaps the blame would revolve around him sooner than later since little did he know, Victoria Grayson was a ghost with the ability to haunt him for the rest of his life.
All it took for her to survive was for Gordon Murphy to call her minutes before the tragic end of the ones she cared for, Lydia included. He told her to get off the plane and that he would be able to keep her safe. It was something she didn't necessarily believe since he was a crooked man with an agenda, but her future wasn't looking too bright at the moment anyway, so she decided to get off of the plane with the evidence Conrad believed was now destroyed, and she walked off with Gordon. She couldn't even find it in her to tell her oldest friend that something awful was going to happen. Gordon never specified that Victoria couldn't take anyone with her, but she selfishly felt for months as though Lydia needed to burn in hell since she spent too much time and far too many orgasms on Conrad. The relationship had always been complicated between Conrad and herself and it was true that she'd been stuck on David Clarke since the day they met, and she failed to get over him even ten years after his death. But yet, Victoria was always possessive of what was hers and since Lydia took that control out of her life, she felt a horrible sense of satisfaction when the explosion occurred and she knew that Lydia Davis was literally burning in hell.
During her time in her halfway house, so to speak, Gordon worked out the details to help not only Victoria, but Charlotte escape the Hampton life that was far less glamorous than perceived. Her seventeen year old daughter who was actually the product of Victoria's affair with David, became her only contact. The two were finally growing closer before Victoria went off the map and after hearing about Charlotte's attempted overdose, the Ice Queen knew she had to bring her daughter in on the mutually beneficial plot. The both would be given new identities and would be taken somewhere far away by Gordon, so long as he got paid. A minor hiccup in the plan was Conrad stealing Charlotte's inheritance. Although she was a resourceful young woman and not only squeezed some money out of Daniel, but also pawned some valuables around the house that wouldn't go noticed right away. Victoria fought tooth and nail that she wasn't leaving without Charlotte, even after both of them paid their dues, but Charlotte convinced Victoria to go ahead and that she would catch up after readying herself to leave this life behind. Victoria hoped to god that didn't mean that Declan would end up in the four bedroom apartment that although held more space than needed, was smaller than what the Grayson women were used to. She also hoped that Charlotte wouldn't have a change of heart and would attempt to mend her relationship with Conrad. Her daughter was smart, but that never stopped anyone from doing something dumb every once in a while.
Trying to stop worrying about the life that Victoria Grayson lived, she reminded herself that she was now Veronica Madeleine Clarke and would be able to have a fresh start if she chose to let go of the past. But somehow, she felt as though it would never fade from memory, even though a new identity left her wanting to. She picked up a cup of tea as she sat at a table for two, across from Gordon Murphy, who would hopefully be leaving her alone soon enough to attempt that fresh start she craved. Sipping the warm herbed beverage, she didn't make a point to take in her surroundings, even though they were so new to her. She was frightened of this place since it wasn't home and anything but went beyond her comfort zone, but she wasn't willing to allow the white haired man to see her in even the mildest state of panic. Not today, anyway. "Can I ask you something?" she asked once the silence had stretched long enough to a point of awkwardness. She wasn't fond of sipping on her tea while a man who could barely pass for an acquaintance sat and stared. Once she set the cup down, her eyes drifted to him, staring blankly, almost right through him as she waited.
"I think you're smart enough to figure it out," a compliment was always a nice way to begin with her, but she wasn't going to show the slightest hint of satisfaction. The situation was very delicate, as she knew she wasn't saved out of the kindness of his heart. He probably couldn't remember the last time it bled for anyone. "You're leverage. Don't get me wrong, I would like for you to live as comfortably as you can, and to enjoy yourself. But should Conrad ever try to stand up against myself or my people, what would better shake him up than a ghost from his past?"
It made perfect sense, although his idea probably came with a 'read between the lines' type of deal where she couldn't raise hell the way she originally planned. So Victoria Grayson wasn't necessarily gone if Conrad ever tried to grow a backbone? Running a hand through the brunette pixie style wig that bled into a blonde at the tips, she silently told herself to stop touching the damn thing. It was itchy, but at least it looked real enough to pass for her own color treated hair. Although, she missed her long locks that were hiding underneath. It wasn't weighing too heavily on her mind though, as she thought about Gordon's question. What would shake Conrad Grayson up more than a ghost from his past. She was sure it was rhetorical, but her mind summoned the face of David Clarke as it so often did, and she smiled sadly. "Two of them," her voice was nearly a whisper.
Perhaps he didn't know how to handle others during emotional situations, because half of a smirk found the white haired man's face. Without a goodbye or anything of that sort, he stood up and turned his back to her. His exit was made easy since they chose to sit at one of the tables outside. What she did notice was how he passed the closest walkway out to place his hand on a man's shoulder. His lack of personal skills disabled him to speak to the man who was focused on a newspaper, and this time, he made his exit fluidly. She couldn't understand why she felt possessed to watch someone she didn't care about leave. Her eyes then reverted to the table Gordon made a point to pass before and sitting there with a smile that screamed a fine mix emotions, was the real life ghost of David Clarke.