Hiya everyone!

Hope you don't mind me fast forwarding a bit or that this chapter focuses a bit more on Clare than Eli, but it was necessary.

Next chapter will be M for a lot of violence and language. Please do not read if you do not think you can handle it.

I don't own anything, and it may not be entirely accurate, but you don't mind pretending, do you? =)

Please review, even if you already have before, it makes me so much happier!

Read, I insist, it's the longest one yet! Enjoy!

•••••

"Alright, I think that's everything." He said, setting the last suitcase on the ground.

"Thank you so much for driving me."

"Of course, Edwards. I knew you'd want to spend as much precious time as possible with me." He replied, smirking.

"Don't flatter yourself." I murmured, leaning in for a quick kiss. I felt his arms snake around my waist, pulling me into him. "Eli," I muttered, before he kissed me again. I brought my hands up towards his chest, giving him a small push, "Eli, I –" He quickly pulled me close again, silencing me with his lips. I groaned, pushing away again. "Eli! I have to go! I'll miss my flight!"

"Then don't go." He suggested.

"Believe me, I wouldn't if I had the choice."

"Randall Edwards." He grumbled, "That man is going to get a piece of my mind."

"Yeah, you get right on that. In the meantime, I have a plane to catch. I'll call you when I land."

He smiled at me. "I'll be waiting."

I kissed him one last time before grabbing the handles of my two suitcases and heading through security. When I'd finally put on my shoes again, I turned to wave at him one last time. I saw him grin, raise his hand, and mouth a "goodbye."

I slowly walked past the overpriced luggage stores and restaurants, until I came upon a newspaper stand. I skimmed over the selection of magazines and was shocked to see my father's face covering almost all of them. I grabbed a copy of the Times and stared down at the caption printed before me. Latest Scandal! Randall Edwards is being sued for millions! Full story on page 52. I gaped at the page, furious.

"Uh, I'll take a copy of this, please." I requested, placing the magazine down on the counter. I quickly reached for a candy bar, "Oh, and one of these."

He gave me a quick smile and rang up my items. "Is there anything else you would like, ma'am?"

"No, thanks."

I hurried towards my gate, which was a much longer walk than I expected. I had just sat down in an available seat when they announced that they were boarding for my flight. I sighed, closing the magazine before I had even read a sentence. I walked up to where they were scanning the first class passenger's tickets.

"Passport ma'am?"

"Oh, shit, sorry. One second." I had completely forgotten to take it out. I frantically scurried through my bag and yanked it out. "Here it is, sorry."

"Its alright ma'am." He said, unsuccessfully hiding the annoyance in his tone.

I hastened down the ramp, murmuring a quick greeting to the flight attendant, and shoved my suitcase in the compartment. I sat down in my seat and instantly pulled out the magazine.

In my mad rush to find the page, I failed to notice the figure looming over me. The stranger cleared his throat, causing me to glance up. He appeared taken aback, and I realized that my expression was slightly crazed.

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry. Do you need to get past?"

"Well, I don't mind, I was enjoying watching your mad rush. I don't think I've ever seen a woman quite so anxious about the newest tabloid. However, the people behind me seem to have a minimal patience level." He replied, smirking.

"Gee, thanks," I said, sarcasm smothering my tone. I shut the magazine, again, and stood up to let him through.

"My name's Declan Coyne." He said, after we'd both sat down.

"Cla—" I began, before he cut me off, informing me that he already knew who I was. This boy needed to be taught a thing or two about first impressions. "Now if you'll excuse me, I do need to read this."

"By all means." He replied, his smirk growing larger.

I calmly turned to page 52 and an enormous picture of my handcuffed father appeared before my eyes.

Millionaire Steals Millions More

Randall Edwards, renowned CEO, has really done it this time. On a recent trip to China, Edwards intended to meet up with former colleagues to discuss a new partnership, or so he tells the press. Sources have leaked that Edwards indeed met up with the associates, but the arrangement was not as black and white as he would like. Liam Nelson, who was not present at the meeting, claims that Randall stole the invaluable idea from him, and was therefore scammed out of millions. He continues on to inform us how Edwards neither needs nor deserves the money and therefore he has every right to sue. Until proven otherwise, Edwards has been assumed guilty and has been taken into custody. We have yet to hear from his daughter, Clare, who has not been seen for several months. Rumor has it that she has left Los Angeles for University, but no one knows how she's handled the situation. We hope to –

I stopped reading after that, as I had all the information that I needed. Of course no one knew what I thought about the accusation, I didn't even know he'd been accused. I was absolutely furious. I slammed the magazine shut and shoved it back in my bag, tearing it in the process.

Declan pulled an ear bud out of his ear. "Did someone take a bad picture of you or something?" He asked.

"No!" I squeaked, shocked as hot, angry tears came pouring down my cheeks.

He quickly yanked out the other ear bud, his expression now concerned. "Hey, hey. What is it? What's wrong?"

All of a sudden, I was ranting my entire life story to a perfect stranger.

•••••

"Adam, she hasn't called!" I grumbled, "What if something went wrong?"

I was seriously beginning to worry now. Clare rarely ever forgot anything, so something must have caused this neglected call.

"Maybe she's already met someone new and just doesn't know how to break it to you." He joked.

I threw a pillow at him.

Adam had met Clare a couple months back, on our sixth date. He wasted no time telling her every little fault he knew about me. He'd said he wanted her to know what she was getting herself into.

Clare told me she didn't care, and she meant it too. That was one of the many things I liked about her, she looked past the bad stuff, as long as there was good underneath. We'd been dating for four months now, and I'd finally convinced her to become my girlfriend two weeks ago. That was the one problem with us; I liked her more than she liked me. She had problems with commitment because she never knew if someone liked her for who she was or who her father was. I constantly reminded her that I'd liked her before I'd known who she was, but she was still convinced that it wasn't true.

She was perfect; intellectual, kind, adventurous but cautious, daring yet innocent, not to mention gorgeous. I found myself constantly thinking about her, especially now that her father had forced her to come back to Los Angeles for the entire winter break. She asked me to come with her, but I doubted I could survive California.

I didn't quite no what to think about her fame. I never thought I'd be dating a millionaire's daughter, but I can't exactly complain. There had been occasional crazed fans coming up to her, screaming, but the media hadn't managed to find her yet. I really only worried that I wasn't good enough for her.

A pillow slammed into my face, drawing me back into reality. Adam had returned the favor. He laughed at my alarmed expression before walking over to the door. "Meeting Fiona, don't wait up." He said, before closing the door behind him.

Although Adam and I had both opted not to visit our families during break, he was going to spend most of his with his new girlfriend. He met Fiona a month ago at a fundraiser of some kind. Apparently, they were both volunteering in order to complete their community service hours. Adam told me he was done for the second he saw her. She was definitely pretty, with her long brown curls and crystal blue eyes, but not nearly as lovely as Clare. Still, she made Adam happy, and was nice enough. We'd managed to keep up some pretty good conversations when we'd met up.

I sighed and grabbed my phone, scrolling to Clare's name. I pressed call and held the phone up to my ear. One, two, three, four rings and then her voicemail came on. "Hi, you've reached Clare's phone. Sorry I can't talk right now, but if you leave a message I'll get back as soon as I can." I waited patiently for the beep.

"Hey Edwards. Just calling to see how daddy's doing. I hope your flight was okay. Call me."

I snapped my phone shut and tossed it onto the couch, before reaching for my laptop. I opened up Safari and got taken straight to my homepage, the CNN website. I gawked at the first headline. Randall Edwards is being sued for millions! I clicked on the link and quickly skimmed the article.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit. Of course Clare hadn't called, she probably just found out. Oh God, and what had I just said. Just calling to see how daddy's doing. Shit. I have to call her again. I lunged for my phone and pressed the redial button. I anxiously waited for the voicemail again.

"Clare, I'm so sorry. I just found out. Take all the time you need. I'm here if you need me."

I groaned, leaning back into the couch. This was the last thing she needed.

•••••

"Thank you," I said as Declan unloaded the last of my suitcases off the baggage claim, "for everything."

"Of course, Clare. You have my number if you need anything, ever."

I smiled at him, before turning towards the exit. I walked past the gates to the waiting area, where I saw Angela standing there, an impatient look on her face. I marched up to her, steaming.

"How could you not tell me?" I yelled.

"Oh, good, so you've heard." she droned, "We didn't want it getting out, obviously. Unfortunately, Liam seems incapable of keeping his mouth shut." She turned on her heel and strode towards the doors.

I stomped after her, about to demand further explanation, when I was greeted with a thousand flashing cameras. Oh my paparazzi friends, how I have missed you.

"Clare—"

"Ms. Edwards—"

"Where have you be—"

What's your opinion on—"

"How have you been handling the—"

"Will you tell us anyth—"

Seven different microphones were shoved in my face. "No comment." I stated, wishing they'd give me a break. Angela was already thirty steps ahead, and would not appreciate delay. "Excuse me." I said, pushing past them.

They trailed me all the way to Angela's pink mini cooper, flashing their cameras the whole time. I kept my head high and plastered a smile on my face. They would not get a bad picture of me today.

My house was filled with snotty, uptight lawyers, who seemed to take pleasure in treating me life a five-year-old. I was so claustrophobic that I could barely breathe. When no one was looking, I inconspicuously slipped out to the garage and got into my silver Cadillac. I drove for a while, not knowing where I was or where I was going. At some point I'd gotten on the highway, and I was cruising down Route 56 when I first spotted the three black SUVs. Not wanting to stray too far from home, I took the next exit, and they followed. I almost smiled at the irony of three identical cars, all headed in the same direction.

I was on an almost deserted lane, not a house in sight. I was taking my time, but I definitely wasn't going too slowly, so I was surprised when one of the cars sped up to overtake me. Crazy drivers. People were always in a hurry; they never had any time for anything.

The SUV had gotten about fifty feet in front of me when it suddenly came to a stop. I slammed on my breaks, only narrowly avoiding hitting it. I sat there, breathless, and scared out of my mind. The second SUV pulled up next to me and the driver got out of the car.

He walked over and tapped on my window, a reassuring smile on his face. I opened the door and shakily got to my feet.

"Are you okay, Miss?"

"Y-yes. Just shocked." I replied, smiling wearily.

"Good." He stated.

Then, everything went black.

•••••

R-E-V-I-E-W, P-L-E-A-S-E! Pshh, I can spell, but I think you know what I mean.