Chapter 4

Clara didn't show a shred of fear.

Right in front of Julian, she raised her hand and struck Chloe across the face a second time!

Caught completely off guard, Chloe tumbled awkwardly onto the floor.

Tears filled her eyes as she whimpered in pain. "It hurts... Clara, how could you do this to me?"

"Stop your pathetic acting!" Clara cut her off with venomous sharp authority. "Chloe, do you dare repeat what you just said to my face?"

"That's enough, Clara!" Julian snapped.

As his heart was already aching for Chloe, he rushed forward and pulled her to her feet.

He glared at Clara, his voice dripping with coldness.

"So what if she stopped the facility from refrigerating a corpse? Is such a trivial matter really worth you throwing a hysterical tantrum in my home?"

Listening to his dismissive, casual disdain, Clara locked her gaze onto his hand, which was wrapped tightly around Chloe's waist.

Her voice trembled violently. "You knew about it too?"

"She asked for my advice. Naturally, I approved of her thoughtfulness. She knew you were broke, so she stepped in to save you from incurring extra debt."

Julian spoke in a flat tone laced with quiet ridicule, "Besides, Clara, your mother came from a dirt-poor, lower-class background.

"People like that deserve an end that matches their status. You should have some self-awareness."

Astonishment and humiliation morphed into sharp glass in Clara's throat and tore her apart until she bled internally.

She shook her head, once, twice, and spoke with every word coated in bitter despair, "Julian... how could you disown my mother's humanity like that...?"

Before she could finish, a desolate smile broke across her lips.

In truth, Julian had always been this way.

From the day they met, Julian had never visited her mother once.

Every time her mother offered to visit the city, Julian dismissed the idea with excuses of being too busy.

He didn't even reserve a single seat for her mother at their upcoming wedding banquet.

Clara had simply spent years blinding herself to everything.

So when reality was finally dragged into the light, she felt like she was being sliced open by a thousand blades.

"It is simply the truth," Julian said with his brow furrowing deeper into a scowl. "However, Clara, that gives you no right to bully Chloe.

"Apologize to her."

Clara grabbed a glass vase from the side table and slammed it onto the hardwood floor with all her strength!

Glass shattered everywhere and some of the shards bit deep into her bare ankles.

Yet she felt no pain at all.

She lifted her chin high and pronounced every syllable clearly, "Julian Vance... in your dreams."

Julian remained terrifyingly calm.

His cold eyes drifted toward Clara's heavy leather backpack.

"Your mother's urn is in there, isn't it? Do you want your mother to be denied peace even after death?"

Clara froze on the spot.

Being dropped into a frozen abyss could not compare to the sheer chill that swept through her veins.

Julian was ruthless in business. He had endless dark, underhanded methods at his disposal to get whatever he wanted.

A suffocating silence stretched between them.

Julian called for his security detail outside. A sign that his patience had run completely dry.

"I'm sorry," Clara choked out and her head dropped as if she was weighed down by iron chains.

Her voice was raspy and hollow as she repeated, 'Miss Chloe… I am sorry.'

"Just a verbal apology?" Julian asked smoothly.

So Clara bent her waist and bowed deeply.

Just like countless times before.

Whenever she made the slightest mistake at work, Julian would force her to stand on stage before the entire company.

He would make her deliver public apologies while feeling every pitying stare burn into her spine.

"I am sorry. It was my fault."

As her head bowed to its lowest point, a single icy tear slipped from the corner of her eye and fell silently onto the carpet below.

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