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CHAPTER ELEVEN
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2025-10-16 23:34:53
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AFTER MY DIVORCE, I HAD A SON FOR A COLD BILLIONAIRE CHAPTER TWELVE
CLARA For a few seconds, I just stood there, frozen. I couldn’t move or breathe. My mind refused to believe the sight in front of me — her? my worst night mare standing there like some twisted ghost from my past. Sasha. The name alone made my stomach turn. She looked the same, perfect, polished with that familiar cold glint that had always warned me: Don’t trust her. My voice came out rough, barely a whisper. “Sasha.” I forced air into my lungs. “Get out of my house.” She smiled — that same fake, sweet smile that never reached her eyes — and stepped right inside before I could shut the door. The sharp click of her heels echoed across the marble floor. “Well, that’s not very warm, Claire” she said, her tone dripping with amusement. “It’s been what — four years? Didn’t you miss me?” “No… no,” I hissed, my chest tightening as a bitter laugh escaped me. “In fact, I loved not having to see your crazy face for all that time. Every day without you… it felt like breathing ag
AFTER MY DIVORCE, I HAD A SON FOR A COLD BILLIONAIRE CHAPTER ELEVEN
CLARA The city lights shimmered like restless fireflies against the car window as Mason drove through the quiet streets. The engine hummed softly beneath the night’s stillness. I leaned back in my seat, one hand pressed against my forehead, the other clutching my phone that hadn’t stopped buzzing all day. I should have answered the last few emails, but my mind was too clouded. It had been one of those days — long, draining, and emotionally heavy. Anderson’s condition, Paris’s refusal to sign the contract, and the Erebos project hanging on a thread — everything was spiraling faster than I could hold it together. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until Mason’s voice cut through the quiet. “Rough day, ma’am?” I turned my head slightly. His eyes were still on the road, hands steady on the steering wheel. Mason had been the company driver for a year now. Dependable, kind, and loyal. The kind of man who never asked for too much and always showed up — rain or shine. There
AFTER MY DIVORCE, I HAD A SON FOR A COLD BILLIONAIRE CHAPTER TEN
CLARA We left Anderson holding and headed back to the lab. Mason drove quietly, hands steady on the wheel, the hum of the tires over asphalt blending with the low buzz of the city. I stared out the window, mind circling Paris, Erebos, and the impossible decisions waiting for me. A tight knot of anxiety twisted in my stomach, my fingers pressing against the seat. Every red light felt like a countdown, every honk a reminder of the mounting pressure. The lab greeted us with its familiar, controlled chaos. Fluorescent lights reflected off stainless steel counters and glass equipment. Scientists moved between workstations, adjusting instruments, checking samples, scribbling notes. The faint scent of chemicals and antiseptic hung in the air, mingling with the low hum of centrifuges and computers. For a moment, the world outside—Anderson’s impossible conditions, Paris’ hesitation—faded, replaced by the rhythmic pulse of work that made sense. A young scientist looked up from her microscope
AFTER MY DIVORCE, I HAD A SON FOR A COLD BILLIONAIRE CHAPTER NINE
CLARAThe boardroom felt impossibly heavy once everyone else had left.Just him. Christopher Anderson.I could feel the weight of him before I even looked up—like gravity had shifted, pulling the air in the room taut. My chest tightened. My lungs seemed too small to fill. Every heartbeat slammed so loud I thought it might burst through my ribcage, drowning out the faint hum of the fluorescent lights above.I swallowed hard, trying to steady my trembling hands. They hovered over the edge of the conference table, gripping it so tight I thought I might leave crescent marks in the polished wood.“Mr. Anderson… I… I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my voice cracking halfway through. “I didn’t know… who you were. I should have… I should have been more polite. I—I apologize. Truly.”He didn’t move or even acknowledge my panic with a shift in posture. His gaze held me, calm, steady, like he was weighing every word I had left unsaid. That faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of his
AFTER MY DIVORCE, I HAD A SON FOR A COLD BILLIONAIRE CHAPTER EIGHT
CLARA The hallway of Anderson Holdings gleamed under the soft lights, each reflection on the marble floor making my steps feel louder than they should. My heels tapped lightly, but somehow… it sounded like an echo bouncing inside my chest. Elena walked beside me, my laptop bag over her shoulder and the case of presentation materials in hand. Always efficient. Always steady. “Miss Everson,” she murmured, almost a whisper, “everything is ready on my end. Mr. Dever is waiting just ahead.” Her calm voice was like an anchor, pulling me away from the spinning mess in my head. I nodded. “Thank you, Elena. Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She smiled faintly, the kind of smile that made things seem manageable. “You’ll do great. Like always.” The glass doors of the boardroom stood just ahead — tall, clear, intimidating. Through them, I could see Mr. Dever waiting, hands clasped, that warm, encouraging smile of his fixed in place. “Clara,” he greeted as I stepped in. “Welco
AFTER MY DIVORCE, I HAD A SON FOR A COLD BILLIONAIRE CHAPTER SEVEN
CHRISTOPHER ANDERSONWe stepped out of the elevator and the city’s hum rose up from below. I fell into my usual stride—each step measured, practiced. Grant and Evan moved at my sides, quiet and alert; Jeremy walked slightly ahead, tablet in hand, scanning the morning schedule with that careful attention I’d come to expect. The small, steady noises of the office felt like a shield around me, familiar and safe.When we entered my office the quiet wrapped itself tighter. I walked past the polished desk, letting the soft city light slide across the floor and into the windows. I slid into my chair and rested my hands on the laptop, looking at the screen without really seeing it. There was a slow, steady calm inside me, but beneath it something sharpened—like cold glass against skin—expectant, waiting.“Make sure the deal is signed,” I said, my voice even, precise. “Mr. Oatman already promised me at golf this morning.”Jeremy offered a polite smile. “You played really well, sir…”I cut him
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