Chapter 6

Clarissa Hart POV

I didn't object.

My opinion no longer mattered anyway.

After all, the baby was already gone.

Seraphina was delighted and suggested treating us to dinner. She made reservations at a French restaurant known for its privacy.

Midway through, Adrian received a work call and got up to take it outside.

Only the two of us women remained at the table.

The moment Adrian left, Seraphina dropped her pretense. She picked up her wine glass and swirled it gently.

"See?" Her tone was smug. "Whatever I want, Adrian will give me. Whether it's a house or the man himself."

She set down the glass, leaned forward, and dropped her voice to a low, vicious whisper.

"Clarissa, I'll advise you one more time-abort the baby yourself and get lost. Otherwise, when he gets tired of you and kicks you out, you'll become a joke in our entire social circle."

I cut my steak, my movements uninterrupted. I didn't even look up at Seraphina.

I just felt annoyed and too tired to respond to these provocations.

My calm came from genuine indifference.

My face showed none of the hurt or anger Seraphina had been expecting, which frustrated her deeply.

Just then, from the corner of her eye, she saw Adrian hang up the phone and start walking back.

She picked up the steaming cup of coffee on the table. Her wrist jerked, and the scalding coffee spilled all over her arm and chest.

"Ah!" She let out a short cry.

Adrian's expression changed. He rushed over in several quick strides.

Seraphina collapsed into his arms. Her makeup ran with tears that fell in large drops. She couldn't form complete sentences, only clutched his sleeve and pointed at me with grievance.

"Adrian, I didn't mean to... I just wanted to talk to Clarissa. Is she angry at me about the house..."

This statement was a direct accusation. Adrian immediately turned to look at me, his eyes full of questioning and displeasure.

I stood up and met his gaze.

"It wasn't me. I didn't pour it on her."

But Adrian no longer believed me.

He looked at Seraphina crying in his arms with her swollen, reddened arm, then at my expressionless face. His mind was already made up.

"I know you're upset, but you shouldn't hurt people."

He said nothing more, simply scooped Seraphina into his arms and strode out of the restaurant.

"To the hospital."

Late at night, Adrian finally came home.

He carried the smell of hospital disinfectant mixed with a hint of perfume.

His face was set, his expression stern in a way I'd never seen before.

"Go apologize to Seraphina." He stood before me. "The doctor said she has severe burns. They might scar."

I sat on the sofa, looked up stubbornly, and repeated, "I didn't do it. I won't apologize."

I looked at him, searching his eyes for even a trace of trust.

There was nothing.

"The surveillance footage," I said. "The restaurant has cameras."

Adrian dismissed it as stubbornness and tantrum, not bothering to consider it at all.

"Stop being difficult. Come with me to the hospital."

He reached out directly, grabbed my wrist, and tried to pull me up from the sofa.

His grip was strong. He yanked me and I stumbled.

I didn't want to go. I didn't want to be humiliated again in front of his friends and the woman he loved.

"Let go!" I struggled, trying to shake off his hand.

My resistance angered him. His grip loosened momentarily.

I fell backward from the momentum.

Thud.

A dull sound.

The back of my head slammed into the marble coffee table.

Warm liquid slid down from my temple, covering my eyes.

Everything in front of me turned blood red. The pain was so intense it went numb. I couldn't feel it anymore.

Adrian saw that shocking red and his pupils contracted violently.

He froze, watching me collapse to the floor, bleeding profusely, his mind blank.

A few seconds passed before he snapped out of it. He rushed over in a panic and picked me up, his hands and voice both trembling.

"Clarissa! Clarissa!"