Thirty One

CHAPTER 31

Antonio slammed the door to his study, the sound reverberating throughout the room. Claire, entirely unfazed by his display of anger, strolled leisurely toward his desk. She turned and perched herself on the edge of the polished mahogany, one leg crossed over the other, her skirt riding up just enough to reveal her toned, slender thighs.

Antonio leaned against the door for a moment, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto Claire. “What do you want, Claire?” he asked sharply, his tone calm yet laced with menace.

Claire tilted her head, her lips curling into a coy smile. “What do I want? Antonio, darling, I should be asking you that.” She gestured dramatically around the room. “You disappear for months, and then I hear about… your marriage.” Her voice dripped with mockery as she emphasized the word. “And worse, I wasn’t even invited. How utterly rude of you.”

Antonio pushed himself off the door, walking toward the desk with measured steps. He placed both hands on the surface, leaning forward slightly to meet Claire’s gaze. “That’s because you’re no longer relevant,” he said coldly. “Whatever we had is over. I’ve found someone else—someone far more interesting.”

Claire’s laughter rang out, bitter and disbelieving. She leaned back, her hands bracing against the desk as her confidence faltered momentarily before she masked it with defiance. “Interesting? Is that what you call her?” she sneered. “Antonio, let’s not pretend. You can play with your little toy all you want, but we both know you can’t escape me.”

Antonio straightened, his expression unreadable. “Escape you?” he repeated, almost amused. “Claire, the only thing I’m interested in now is moving forward. You’re just a relic of my past.”

Claire’s smile vanished, replaced by a hardened glare. Her jaw tightened as she processed his words. Slowly, she slid off the desk, standing mere inches away from him. “A relic?” she hissed. “We’ll see about that.”

In one swift motion, she shrugged off her tailored blazer, letting it fall to the floor. Beneath it, a fitted tank top clung to her curves, leaving little to the imagination. She stepped closer, her voice softening into a sultry whisper. “You’ve always had a weakness for me, Antonio. Don’t forget that.”

Antonio didn’t flinch. His gaze remained steady, his expression cold as he studied her. “Is this your plan, Claire?” he asked, his tone dripping with disdain. “To seduce me into forgetting the mess you’ve already caused?”

Claire’s fingers lightly trailed along the edge of the desk, her confidence returning as she ignored his words. “I’m simply reminding you of what you’re missing,” she purred sweetly.

Antonio’s patience wore thin. He stepped back, creating distance between them. “You’re wasting your time,” he said curtly. “Leave now, Claire, while I’m still willing to be civil.”

Her expression darkened, and for the first time that evening, cracks in her composure became evident. “Civil?” she repeated with a bitter laugh. “You think you can just cast me aside like I’m nothing? I’ve given you everything, Antonio.”

Antonio’s eyes hardened. “You gave me problems. That’s all.” He motioned toward the door. “This conversation is over. Go.”

Claire stood frozen for a moment, her lips pressing into a thin line. She grabbed her blazer from the floor and slipped it back on, her movements sharp and deliberate. Turning on her heel, she stormed toward the door but paused just before leaving. Looking over her shoulder, she gave him a chilling smile. “You’ll regret this, Antonio. Mark my words.”

Antonio didn’t respond. He waited until the door slammed shut behind her before letting out a long, controlled breath. His gaze shifted to the empty desk, the tension in the room lingering like a storm waiting to break.

***

Meanwhile, Cassandra was still seated in the living room. She wasn’t sure if she was waiting for Claire to leave or simply trying to rest. Her thoughts swirled, attempting to make sense of the situation unfolding in the house. But when the study door finally opened and Claire emerged, Cassandra felt a strange sense of relief. Claire’s sneering glance passed over her, but Cassandra could tell that nothing significant had happened inside.

Claire strode out of the house with a haughty air, her heels clicking against the marble floor. A few seconds later, Antonio followed at a leisurely pace, his hands tucked into his pockets. He paused briefly in the doorway of the living room, his gaze settling on Cassandra, who remained seated on the sofa.

“Why are you still here?” he asked, his voice low but probing, as if searching for her true intentions.

Cassandra hesitated, shaking her head uncertainly. She opened her mouth to speak but found herself unable to form any words.

Antonio stepped closer, walking slowly until he was standing beside the sofa. He leaned down slightly, bringing his face near Cassandra’s ear. In a voice barely above a whisper, he asked, “Are you jealous, Cassandra?”

Cassandra held her breath, her blood rushing through her veins. She couldn’t respond, but the heat rising in her cheeks spoke volumes more than any words she could have said.