Chapter 2

Clara POV

Vivienne stood up, strode over, and shoved me hard toward the stone steps.

I stumbled back a couple of paces, the palms of my hands scraping violently against the rough concrete. It burned like fire.

Bracing myself, I managed not to fall, tilting my chin up to glare at her.

"Keep standing there. Don't move an inch until my temper cools down."

Dropping that command, Vivienne turned on her heel and retreated indoors.

The skin on my palms was torn raw. Dirt mixed with beads of blood, dripping slowly from my fingertips.

The gusts sweeping through the courtyard grew harsher by the minute.

The servants swapped shifts twice.

A newly hired maid brought out a heavy coat, attempting to drape it over my shoulders, but a senior maid yanked her back instantly.

"She's serving the mistress's punishment! Are you trying to get fired?"

The older maid hissed under her breath.

Shrinking her neck, the new girl clutched the coat and scurried away.

My legs felt as stiff as lead, my knees trembling uncontrollably, my teeth chattering loud enough to click.

The screech of brakes echoed from the front gate.

Julian pushed through the main entrance.

He casually handed his overcoat to a servant, then glanced toward the courtyard and caught sight of me.

Dried blood caked my temple, my lips had turned blue, and I was shivering like a leaf caught in a storm.

Julian's hand paused as he twirled his car keys.

Our eyes locked across the open yard.

I stared at him.

All it took was a single word from him—"stop"—and Vivienne would have to drop it.

Instead, Julian averted his gaze and strode into his study.

The door clicked shut behind him.

The corners of my mouth curled into a mocking, self-deprecating smile.

The very next second, darkness swallowed my vision, and I slid down the wall, collapsing flat onto the freezing pavers.

When I opened my eyes again, an expanse of stark white ceiling met my gaze.

The sharp stench of antiseptic burned my nose.

A nurse walked over to swap out the IV bag. "You're awake? Half an hour later, and that hypothermia would've caused permanent damage."

My voice was terribly raspy. "Who brought me here?"

"Your family's chauffeur. He hovered outside the whole afternoon and just left."

The nurse adjusted the IV drip, lowering her voice. "Your blood work came back. You're pregnant again."

I bolted upright.

My third child was barely over a month old.

"You just gave birth; your body is extremely weak. It would be best to—"

"I don't want it."

I cut her off without hesitation.

The nurse paused, taken aback. "This is something you need to discuss with your family..."

"It's my body. There's nothing to discuss."

I pronounced every word with absolute clarity.

Swallowing the rest of her lecture, the nurse picked up her tray and backed out, closing the door behind her.

A fourth one.

If I had a fourth, there would be a fifth, and a sixth.

The Sinclairs clearly had no intention of ever letting me go.

I had only promised to bear them three. This child could not stay.

Every extra day I kept it was another chain keeping me from walking out of the Sinclair mansion for the rest of my life.

I reached up and tore the IV needle clean out of the back of my hand.

Blood welled up instantly.

Tossing aside the blanket, I rolled out of bed.

The moment my bare feet touched the floor, the room spun violently. I caught the nightstand just in time to steady myself.

"Hey! You're not done with your IV!" a nurse shouted from the doorway.

I didn't look back. Barefoot on the icy terrazzo floor of the corridor, I sprinted forward with everything I had.

Draped in a baggy hospital gown, gauze wrapped around my forehead, my hair tumbled loose over my shoulders.

I had to get out before the Sinclairs caught on.

Just as I rounded the corner, I slammed straight into a solid chest.

A familiar scent of tobacco filled my senses.

I snapped my head up, colliding with Julian's glacial glare.

He looked down at my bare feet and the drops of blood trickling from my hand, his brow knotting into a tight, furious scowl.

The hallway fell into dead silence as we locked in a tense standoff.