Chapter 5: The Wife He Cannot Control

Claire's POV

“Your father's stable now, Ms. Miller, but we shouldn't delay his surgery any longer.”

Dr. Harris spoke gently, but I couldn't stop watching Dad through the glass. He was asleep, surrounded by monitors.

“He'll be all right tonight?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady.

“We're monitoring him closely. His symptoms have worsened, and we need to arrange the procedure as soon as possible.”

I nodded, remembering how Dad had smiled when I visited him yesterday. I'd promised to find the money, but I'd already lost his reserved surgical slot.

Emily arrived twenty minutes later and found me crying outside his room.

“Claire, what happened?” she asked, pulling me into her arms.

“They stabilized him, but he needs surgery soon. I'm scared we'll lose him before I can pay.”

“Then we'll speak to the financial office again,” Emily said. “There must be another option.”

We spent the next hour discussing payment arrangements. The hospital agreed to review a reduced initial deposit, but nothing had been approved.

My broker called as we returned to Dad's room.

“Claire, I've secured an advance against your coastal painting. The buyer has signed, and the funds should clear tomorrow.”

“How much?” I asked, gripping the phone.

“Eight thousand dollars.”

Relief washed over me, followed by disappointment. It was money I'd earned myself, but it still left a considerable shortfall.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “Please send me the confirmation.”

Ryan called shortly afterward.

“Claire, we didn't finish our conversation. Is this a bad time?”

“I'm at the hospital. Dad's condition got worse.”

“I'm sorry. Do you need help with the arrangements?”

“I don't want your money, Ryan.”

“I understand. Would you like me to come?”

I glanced toward Dad's room. “No. Emily's here.”

“All right. Call me if you need anything.”

He ended the call without arguing. After everything Jason had put me through, having someone respect a simple refusal felt unfamiliar.

The following morning, I returned to Ryan's office with a list I'd written while Emily slept. The hospital was still reviewing my payment proposal, and Dad remained under observation.

Ryan stood when I entered. “How's your father?”

“Stable. My broker secured an advance, but we're still waiting for the hospital's decision.”

“I hope they approve it,” he said, gesturing toward the chair.

I placed my notes on his desk. “I've considered your proposal. I'm not here because I expect you to rescue my father. I want to know whether we can agree on something fair.”

“Then tell me your conditions.”

“I keep my professional name, artwork, and business. Our finances remain separate, and I choose my own lawyer. You don't control my friendships, work schedule, or private decisions.”

“Public appearances would need coordinating,” Ryan replied.

“Coordinating is fine. Asking permission isn't.”

He nodded, and I continued.

“We have separate bedrooms. There's no obligation to be physically intimate, and we don't marry until my divorce is final.”

“I agree. But at company events, we'd need to present a united front.”

“I won't publicly support decisions that damage my work or reputation.”

Ryan frowned. “We can't contradict each other whenever we disagree.”

“Then don't expect me to agree with everything.”

“Claire, not every disagreement is an attempt to control you.”

“And not everyone who challenges you is trying to undermine you. You're accustomed to people surrendering because you can make their lives difficult.”

His expression hardened. “You think I'd do that to you?”

“I think you're used to getting your way.”

Ryan studied my notes before looking up.

“You're difficult to negotiate with.”

“Then perhaps you should marry Olivia.”

He laughed unexpectedly. “I'd rather negotiate with someone who tells me what she thinks. We'll have our lawyers work through the terms, including how we handle public disagreements.”

I picked up my notes, relieved that he hadn't demanded I withdraw anything.

“Have you considered the scrutiny that comes with being my wife?” he asked. “My family won't welcome you easily.”

“Jason denied our marriage in front of an entire room. I know what humiliation feels like.”

“This would be different. People would examine your career and everything you've done.”

“Then they'll have plenty to discuss.”

Ryan smiled. “You really don't frighten easily.”

“I've been frightened every day this week.”

“Yet you're still here.” He held my gaze. “I respect that, Claire.”

His words affected me more than I wanted to admit. I gathered my papers before he could notice.

“I'll speak to my lawyer.”

“I'll wait to hear from you.”

That evening, I attended a gallery association reception. My broker had encouraged me to meet potential buyers, and I couldn't afford to miss another opportunity.

I was speaking with an artist when Jason appeared beside me.

“So it's true,” he said. “You've been meeting Ryan Bennett.”

“My business is no longer your concern.”

“Everything you do concerns me while you're still my wife.”

“You publicly denied being married to me, Jason.”

He stepped closer. “You know what I meant.”

Jessica joined him, resting her hand on his arm.

“Everyone's talking about you chasing Ryan,” she said. “He won't marry a woman Jason discarded.”

“I came here to work, Jessica. Find someone else to entertain you.”

Jason caught my wrist as I turned away.

“You think Bennett will protect you? I'll make sure no gallery wants your paintings.”

“Let her go, Miller.”

Ryan approached us. I recognized several Bennett Group representatives behind him.

Jason released my wrist. “Planning to steal my wife along with my contracts?”

“Claire chooses whom she works with,” Ryan replied. “You don't dictate her career.”

Jason laughed. “What next? Are you going to marry my unwanted wife?”

Ryan turned toward me. “Claire, do you want me to discuss our private conversations?”

I hadn't expected him to ask. This time, he was letting me decide.

“No. Jason has no right to know my plans.”

“Then he won't hear them from me,” Ryan replied.

Jason looked between us, growing angrier.

“So you're already sleeping with him? Is that how you got his attention?”

“Watch what you say,” Ryan warned.

Jason ignored him. “I should've known you'd sell yourself to the first billionaire willing to take you.”

For four years, I'd endured his insults because I wanted our marriage to survive. Now he was humiliating me in public again, as though I still belonged to him.

I slapped him.

Nearby conversations stopped. Jason touched his cheek, staring at me as I fought to steady my breathing.

“Don't ever speak to me like that again.”

Ryan stepped beside me, but I raised my hand. “I can speak for myself.”

Jason glared at us. “When I'm finished exposing your betrayal, no respectable man will marry you.”

“You were preparing to propose to Jessica while I was still your wife,” I replied. “Your opinion of loyalty means nothing to me.”

Ryan faced him. “Claire's future is no longer your concern.”

Jason pointed at him. “Are you claiming she's going to be your wife?”

Ryan looked at me, waiting rather than answering.

I thought about the conditions we'd discussed that morning. Nothing was settled, and I wouldn't let Jason force a decision. But I could decide how to answer him.

I reached for Ryan's hand and looked straight at Jason.

“You wanted to know whether Ryan intends to marry me?”