Chapter 7

THE PROPOSAL

~CLAIRE'S POV~

{ONE YEAR LATER}

"Your boyfriend is on the line," Marcus whispered, holding out the phone.

I caught my reflection in the dressing room mirror—sleek bob, red lipstick, a woman I barely recognized. The makeup artist stepped back, declaring me camera-ready.

One year ago, I was sobbing in Alexander's arms. Now I was about to go live on television.

"Please tell me you have good news," I said into the phone, "or a very good reason for interrupting my beauty ritual."

Alexander's laugh was warm. "Hello, love."

‘Love.’ The word still felt strange between us, even after everything.

It had been exactly one year since that night at Eleanor's party. One year since I had been ready to give up my dignity for revenge.

Alexander had surprised me then—instead of taking advantage of my desperation, he had listened. And agreed to help me destroy Richard.

I had never asked why he wanted to ruin his own half-brother. Some questions were better left unasked.

"So, dinner?" he asked now.

"If I survive this interview." I watched the crew fussing around me. "Thirty minutes, tops."

"I could storm in there and carry you out."

"You would not dare." But I was smiling. The crew exchanged knowing looks….the happy couple act was working perfectly.

It was not entirely an act. Alexander had saved me, in his way. After that final, humiliating encounter with Richard...

*******************

FLASH BACK { LAST DAY IN NEW YORK}

‘I had been such a fool, waiting in his office for an hour while Janet shot me pitying looks.

When Richard finally appeared from the elevator, casual clothes replacing his usual suit, those blue eyes looked at me with something almost like warmth.’

‘Hope fluttered in my chest as he led me to his office.

When he pressed me against his desk, brushing hair from my face, I thought—God, I actually thought he had come back to me.’

‘His cruel laughter shattered everything.’

"So easy," he had said, eyes assessing me like I was nothing. "Does any man get between your legs this easily? Are you always this cheap?"

‘I had begged him to leave Monica, to choose me. The pity in his eyes was worse than hatred.’

‘Then his phone rang. Monica's name on the screen. He let go of my wrist to answer, asking which restaurant they were meeting at.’

‘I slipped out while he was distracted, tears streaming down my face.’

{PRESENT DAY}

That was the last day I had let anyone see me weak.

I had called Alexander from the lobby, crying my eyes out as he held me. Two days later, we were on a plane to Switzerland.

Two months of healing, then eight months of rebuilding myself from the ground up.

Business classes. Fitness training. Charity galas where Alexander introduced me as his mysterious companion.

I had learned to speak confidently, to command attention, to be the woman Richard claimed I could never be.

The broken, pathetic Claire was gone.

In her place stood someone stronger—someone who graced magazine covers and wrote bestselling books about transformation.

"Earth to Claire," Alexander's voice pulled me back to the present.

"Sorry, just thinking about the interview."

"You'll be brilliant. You always are."

The interview went smoothly. Marie, the anchor who had become a genuine friend, asked the usual questions about my book, my meteoric rise, my "mysterious relationship" with Alexander Hayes.

I gave smoothed answers, the kind I had perfected over months of public appearances.

When the cameras stopped rolling, Marie pulled me aside.

"Okay, spill. What's Alexander planning tonight? He's been unusually secretive, and he specifically requested I keep you exactly thirty minutes."

"You know how he likes his surprises." I shrugged, though something in her face made me uneasy.

"Claire..." Marie hesitated. "Just….be careful tonight, okay?"

Before I could ask what she meant, Marcus appeared. "Your car's ready."

The restaurant Alexander chose was ‘Dahlia’—my favorite, named after my favorite flower. The place where I had celebrated my first business deal.

But tonight, it felt different. Too quiet. Too empty.

"Where is everyone?" I asked the hostess.

She smiled mysteriously. "Mr. Hayes has made special arrangements. Please follow me."

My stomach knotted as she led me upstairs. The private dining room was transformed—rose petals scattered across the floor, candles flickering in the dim light, soft music playing from hidden speakers.

My heart stuttered.

At the center of the room, framed by floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Geneva, Alexander knelt on one knee.

A small velvet box sat open in his palm, a sapphire ring catching the candlelight.

"Alexander..." My voice came out choked. "What are you doing?"

He looked up at me with those passionate green eyes—so different from Richard's cold blue ones.

"To the most hardworking, beautiful woman I have come to know, Claire Elizabeth Winfred—will you marry me?"

The words hung between us like a bridge I was not sure I was ready to cross. My throat closed.

This was not part of the plan. We had never talked about marriage, about making this carefully put together relationship real.

"I..." I stared at the ring, at his hopeful face, at the romantic scene he had created.

"I know what this started as," he said quietly, still kneeling.

"Revenge against Richard. A business arrangement. But somewhere along the way, it became real for me. You became real for me."

‘Real.’

Nothing about my life felt real anymore. I was Claire 2.0, the shiny version, the success story.

But underneath all the magazine covers and business deals, I was still the woman who had begged her ex-husband to love her.

"Alexander, I don't understand. We agreed…."

"I know what we agreed." He stood slowly, the ring box still open between us. "But I fell in love with you, Claire. Not the revenge, not the plan….you."

The words should have made me happy. Alexander was a good man. He had given me everything—a new life, a career, confidence I had never known I possessed.

He had never made me feel small or worthless. He had never looked at me with pity.

But as I stared at the beautiful ring, only one thought echoed through my mind:

‘What would Richard think when he saw this?’

And I realized that maybe, just maybe, that was exactly the point. The final move in a game I had been playing for a year.

The ultimate revenge—marrying his brother, becoming the woman he had thrown away.

I looked up at Alexander's hopeful face, this man who had helped me become stronger, who had stood by me when I had nothing.

"Yes," I whispered.

The word came out before I could stop it. Alexander's face lit up as he slipped the ring onto my finger, pulling me into his arms.

But even as he kissed me, even as he whispered how happy I had made him, I hated myself for the real reason I had said yes.

Because deep down, I was still that broken woman in Richard's office, and this ring was just another weapon in a war I couldn't stop fighting.