Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 Clara’s POV

Two hours later, the atmosphere inside the Russell Mansion was thick enough to choke on.

Through the double French doors leading into the main salon, I could hear my stepmother, Beth, sobbing theatrically into a silk handkerchief.

She was wringing her hands, lamenting my "willful, disrespectful behavior" while loudly fretting over her precious daughter, Sarah, who had locked herself in her upstairs bedroom in a fit of dramatic despair.

My father, Jamie Russell, stood near the fireplace, checking his platinum wristwatch for the third time in five minutes. 

His face was thunderous. He had demanded I appear within thirty minutes, yet hours had passed.

I took a quiet, steadying breath, smoothed down the lapels of my classic beige trench coat, and stepped inside.

I had deliberately taken the extra time to prepare my defense. 

My hair was swept up into an immaculate, elegant bun secured with vintage pins. 

My heels clicked with measured authority against the marble, and a coat of striking blood-red lipstick painted my lips. 

I cut the picture of unflappable high-society sophistication.

The moment the heavy mahogany doors closed behind me, Beth accosted me, her voice shrill. 

"Clara! How dare you keep your father waiting for two hours? Have you no respect for this family?"

I didn't even blink. 

Reaching up to lightly touch an escaped strand of hair, I offered my father a faint, polite smile. 

"The last time I visited without notice, Beth made sure to remind me that coming home without proper styling damaged Father’s public standing. 

“I simply wanted to ensure I looked respectable enough to represent the Russell name. Did I take too long, Dad?"

Jamie’s harsh frown softened slightly as his eyes took in my polished appearance. He cleared his throat. 

"No... you look lovely, Clara. Very fitting for a Russell daughter."

"Lovely?" Beth’s voice pitched higher, her artificial sorrow instantly vanishing. "Jamie, are you really letting her sway you with makeup? 

“Did you forget what the lawyer reported this morning? Ask her! Ask her about the rumors!"

Jamie’s gaze hardened instantly as he locked eyes with me. "What is she talking about, Clara? What did you tell Vance?"

I stood tall, keeping my chin level. "It’s not a rumor, Father. I got married today."

Pak!

The sharp, brutal crack of a slap echoed through the grand foyer.

The force whipped my face violently to the side. 

My neat bun came loose, strands of dark hair spilling over my face as a burning heat radiated across my cheek.

"You ungrateful child!" Jamie roared, his hand still hovering in the air, trembling with rage. "How dare you make a mockery of this family! 

“You go behind my back and throw yourself away on some ‘nobody’ without my consent?"

Beth immediately swooped in, wrapping her arms around Jamie’s arm and squeezing out fresh, crocodile tears. 

"Oh, Jamie, please control your temper! But... oh, Clara, how could you be so cruel? To make such a monumental life decision without your father’s blessing? 

“Without elders present? You've brought utter shame upon us!"

Jamie looked down at me with pure, unadulterated disgust. "You are a complete failure of a daughter. A disappointment."

I stood frozen, the stinging heat on my face numb compared to the cold ache inside my chest. 

I opened my mouth to tell him who I had married, but Jamie cut me off with a dismissive flick of his wrist.

"I don't care who the pathetic fool is," Jamie snapped bitterly. "I have no time for your tantrums right now. Sarah is upstairs sick with worry because of your greed over that penthouse."

He turned his back on me completely, heading toward the grand staircase to check on his favored daughter.

---

Upstairs, I stood outside Sarah’s closed bedroom door, listening to the muffled silence inside.

"Unless you've brought the signed transfer papers for Mother's penthouse, you can get lost, Clara!" Sarah’s sharp, arrogant voice snapped from within before I could even knock.

"Sarah, open the door," I said calmly through the wood. "We need to talk about the legalities of Mother's estate."

"I am not opening anything!" she shrieked loudly enough for the servants downstairs to hear. "I'm going to lock myself in here and starve until Daddy strips you of every single penny! And everyone will know it was your fault!"

Inside the room, I heard the faint rustle of a wrapper, followed by the quiet crunch of a chocolate bar. 

She wasn't starving; she was comfortably reclining on her canopy bed, enjoying her performance.

A slow, cold anger washed over me. If she wanted drama, I would give her a masterpiece.

Walking over to the hallway console, I picked up a set of decorative sandalwood incense sticks from a vase, struck a match, and held them directly under the glass dome of the ceiling fire detector.

Within seconds, a dense cloud of fragrant smoke triggered the sensors.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The deafening shriek of the fire alarm shattered the quiet of the mansion. 

Red strobe lights flashed down the corridor, and overhead sprinklers began a low hiss.

"Fire! There's a fire!" Sarah’s frantic scream ripped through the door.

The lock clicked open, and Sarah bolted out into the hallway in full panic, mascara running down her face, clutching a silk robe around herself. 

"Daddy! Help me! She’s trying to burn the house down! She’s trying to kill me!"

She tumbled down the stairs into Jamie’s waiting arms, wailing at the top of her lungs.

I walked to the top of the landing, holding the smoking incense sticks loosely between my fingers, looking down at the chaos with serene composure.

"It's my fault, Father," I called down softly, my voice carrying over the alarm. "Sarah refused to open the door to speak with me, so I thought... Perhaps lighting some traditional incense to pray for her peaceful heart might help us reconcile."

"Clara! Stop this madness right now!" Jamie roared from below, cradling a sobbing Sarah while Beth patted her back.

Down in the foyer, Beth and Sarah exchanged a brief, triumphant glance behind Jamie's back, silently mocking me. 

They had won another round. I was the crazy, unhinged daughter, and Sarah was the fragile victim.

Before Jamie could unleash his full wrath, the heavy ring of his personal cell phone broke through the noise.

He pulled the phone from his jacket, saw the caller ID, and his furious expression instantly dissolved into a subservient, beaming smile. 

He quickly raised a hand to silence the household.

"Ah, Chairman Johnson! What an honor..." Jamie smoothed his jacket, walking toward the study to take the high-stakes corporate call.

Ten minutes later, Jamie stepped back into the foyer. 

The fire alarms had been shut off, but his demeanor had shifted into something icy and calculated. He looked at me with cold indifference.

"What happened today can rest for now," Jamie ordered, adjusting his cuffs. "Chairman Johnson's office just called to confirm their attendance at our annual gala this Friday. 

“I will not have you ruining our standing. As for your impulsive, ridiculous little marriage..." He sneered. "I will have our legal team arrange a quiet annulment next week. You will marry who I say, when I say!"

Sarah and Beth immediately leaned against him, basking in his authority and affection like a picture-perfect family.

A hollow, bitter smile touched my lips. I didn't say a word. 

I didn't tell him that his prized "Chairman Johnson" was now my grandfather-in-law, or that his ruthless new son-in-law was the very man holding his company's debt.

Without another word, I turned my back on the Russell family, walked out into the cool night air, slid into my car, and drove away into the dark.

Looking back, I saw Julian 

He stepped into the compound and was greeted warmly by the head butler with deep bows as he entered the mansion I had just been cast out of.

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