Chapter 4

Clara POV

The private dining room was brightly lit.

Brett Vance sat beside Vivienne, dressed to the nines, his roving gaze scanning me up and down.

I sat on Vivienne's other side, resting both hands on my knees, balled into tight fists.

"Mr. Vance, I brought her to you, just as promised."

Vivienne took an elegant sip of her tea, her tone languid.

"Mrs. Sinclair, you're too kind."

Brett smiled.

His eyes lingered on my temple for a second. "What happened there?"

"Just an accidental bump," Vivienne answered smoothly on my behalf.

Turning her head toward me, Vivienne's tone hardened. "Do you know why Julian wants you to make the kids call me Mother in front of everyone at the banquet?"

I stayed silent.

"He wants to nail you to the Sinclair family so you can never crawl out," Vivienne said.

My lips twitched. "I'll go back right now and stand in that courtyard corner. I'll stand there as long as you want."

The words rushed out of me.

I could endure the punishments. I had survived over twenty of them; surviving a few more days was nothing.

Vivienne didn't bite.

She set her teacup down, leaned forward slightly, and lowered her voice so only the three of us could hear.

"At the hospital the other day, you tested positive for another one."

My shoulders locked instantly.

"The driver reported it to me that very afternoon. Julian is still completely in the dark."

Vivienne stared straight into my eyes.

The blood in my veins turned to ice.

I hadn't breathed a single word in that hospital room. I thought only the nurse and I knew.

While I spent every day counting down the clock, she had been holding this leverage all along, waiting for tonight to strike.

Vivienne leaned back against her chair, her tone sickeningly relaxed. "That deal years ago was made for three children. Now that you're carrying a fourth, all it takes is one word to Julian. Once the banquet is over, you still won't be able to leave. He'll keep you pinned under the Sinclairs, popping out baby after baby. By then, not even Grandfather will be able to step in."

The room fell so quiet I could hear footsteps out in the hallway.

Vivienne offered a faint smile. "Tonight, give Mr. Vance whatever he wants, and I'll pretend I never heard about the pregnancy. Tomorrow morning, before the party even starts, I'll kick you out of the Sinclair house. No one will ask questions."

She paused, letting the threat sink in. "Refuse by a single word, and Julian finds out first thing in the morning."

I looked at her.

I understood completely.

Getting kicked out tomorrow morning was my only ticket to freedom, and Vivienne held the key.

I also understood why she was doing it this way.

She wanted me to leave branded as a ruined woman, so that even if Julian ever tracked me down, I could never return.

All these years, I had planned to walk away clean, square and even with this family.

Vivienne wanted to make sure I could never hold my head high again, forever tainted by tonight.

Reaching out, Vivienne grabbed my wrist and forced my hand into Brett's palm.

"She's all yours tonight, Mr. Vance."

With that, she stood up and led her entourage of servants out of the room.

The door was left wide open; nobody bothered to shut it.

I sat frozen in the chair, my hand trapped in Brett's grip.

My only way out rested entirely on the man sitting next to me.

Hallway light spilled across the threshold, casting long shadows on the floor. I could hear servants walking past outside, but not a single one stepped in.

I didn't dare move, nor did I dare scream.

If I screamed, Julian would find out tomorrow morning, and I would be trapped here for the rest of my life.

"You heard Mrs. Sinclair. Tonight, you listen to me," Brett purred.

He leaned in close, his alcohol-laden breath washing over my neck.

I shoved at his chest, but he didn't budge.

His full weight pressed down on me. As I shrank back, he locked a brutal grip on my wrists.

I brought my knee up to strike him, but he twisted sideways, dodging the blow.

Right then, Julian appeared in the open doorway.

He took in the scene inside, his face instantly turning livid. In three strides, he crossed the room, grabbed Brett by the collar, and slammed a fist into his jaw.

Brett let out a muffled grunt, stumbling backward across the floor before scrambling to his feet and bolting like a terrified dog.

Only the two of us remained in the room.

Julian turned around, his chest heaving violently, fury blazing in his eyes.

He glared at me as if I were a piece of garbage that had soiled itself.

"Did you come here on your own?" The words ground out through his clenched teeth.

Those footsteps outside had been his. For a split second, I had actually thought he was coming to rescue me.

Yet the moment he stepped inside, his first instinct was to pin the blame entirely on me.

Before I could open my mouth, he grabbed my arm and dragged me up from the chair.

"Let's go."

He hauled me out of the private room and shoved me into his car.

The entire ride back, I clutched his sleeve. "Vivienne forced me! She used the baby to threaten me—"

He violently shook off my hand, his eyes locked dead ahead, his jaw clenched so hard the muscle twitched. He refused to hear a single word.

This was the first time I had ever voluntarily spoken to him about what went on in that house.

I had stood in that courtyard over twenty times without uttering a single complaint, but tonight, when I finally spoke, he refused to listen.

Back at the estate, he dragged me inside and threw me ruthlessly to the floor.

Stumbling, I pushed myself up. "Julian, just listen to me for one second—"

He shoved me down again.

I scrambled forward, desperate to grab his sleeve. He jerked away, and I fell backward, my lower abdomen slamming violently against the solid wooden armrest of the sofa.

The impact caused my vision to black out. I gasped for air, but my lungs refused to fill. Curling into a tight ball, I clamped both hands over my stomach.

An explosive agony ripped through my gut, and hot blood began coursing down between my thighs.

Looking down, I watched blood seep through the hem of my dress, spreading across the floorboards in an ever-widening stain.

The child I had never intended to keep was snuffed out by his own hands.

All the careful calculations I had made for my departure shattered in an instant.

I had planned to leave clean, owing nothing to anyone, but now there was this.

A tragedy I had no idea how to carry.

Julian saw it too.

The fury on his face froze completely. His Adam's apple bobbed, but not a single sound came out.

He dropped into a crouch, his hand rising halfway before freezing in midair.

"Clara?" he called out, his voice cracking. Then he roared toward the doorway, "Someone get in here!"

I didn't answer.

Now he finally bothered to say my name.

I bit my lip until it bled, staring blankly at the ceiling, refusing to look at him.

Whatever he had to say, I didn't care to hear it. I would handle what came next myself: getting out of this door alive.

Blood kept pooling, flowing over my fingers and seeping into the cracks of the floor.

The child that had barely been confirmed was gone.