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CHAPTER ELEVEN_ Claire’s POV
publish date:
2026-01-03 00:54:51
Latest chapter
The Wife He Threw Away CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND FORTY-SEVEN_ LUCIAN’S POV
The room was quiet again. Too quiet. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor filled the silence as I stared at the ceiling, trying to convince myself I wasn’t dreaming. I was alive, somehow. That last encounter with Hart had been a close shave. Very close. Now every breath pulled at my stitches. Every heartbeat reminded me of the knife he had buried beneath my ribs. I turned my head slowly. Claire was gone because the detective had asked her to step outside while he took my statement. She had looked reluctant to leave. She’d glanced back twice before disappearing through the door. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to see it again. Her face. Her tears. Claire had cried because of me. Not because it was expected. She had actually broken down. I had seen Claire angry. Cold. Disappointed. Heartbroken. But seeing her break down in tears, completely shattered, was always the worst. The detective produced a notebook and a recorder. He offered me
The Wife He Threw Away CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND FORTY-SIX_ CLAIRE’S POV
Lucian was awake. I must have stopped breathing. For one terrifying second, I thought grief had finally broken my mind. He was looking at me! His dark eyes were heavy with exhaustion, clouded by medication and pain, but they were unmistakably focused. On me. Alive. My lips parted before I realized I was speaking. “Lucian?” I squeaked. His gaze softened as he tried to answer. Unfortunately, he could only manage a rasp. His throat was too dry. “Oh…” My hands moved fast, reaching for the glass of water beside his bed. I poured a little more into it, and slipped one arm carefully beneath his shoulders. “Easy,” I whispered. “You’ve been unconscious for days.” Lucian leaned into my support without protest, taking a few small sips through the straw before sinking back into the pillows. “Better?” I asked. He offered a small nod in response. I set the glass down with trembling hands. For a long moment, neither of us spoke. We didn’t need to. The sile
The Wife He Threw Away CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY-FIVE_ CLAIRE’S POV
The defense attorneys looked furious. Eva looked worse. And we were only getting started. I turned another page in my file. “Your Honor, Sinclair & Co would also like to submit additional evidence demonstrating a pattern of coercion and manipulation carried out by Ms. Sterling.” Eva’s attorney immediately stood. “Objection. We have not yet reviewed this material.” “You will,” I said calmly. The judge gestured for me to continue, so I did. “We possess a recorded telephone conversation between the defendant, Ms. Sterling and the plaintiff, Mr. Dhark.” That got everyone’s attention, including Eva. I watched her carefully. I saw her shoulders tense. Saw her jaw tighten. Good. Because she knew exactly which call I was talking about. “We intend to demonstrate that Ms. Sterling attempted to pressure Mr. Dhark into resuming their relationship by threatening to maintain public allegations against him.” The room grew noticeably quieter. Eva’s lead attorney immediatel
The Wife He Threw Away CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY-FOUR_ CLAIRE’S POV
I had barely slept. The little sleep I managed to get came in broken fragments—twenty minutes here, forty there. Consistently interrupted by hospital monitors, phone calls, and the constant fear that my phone would ring with news I wasn’t ready to hear. But exhaustion wasn’t an excuse. Not today. Today was important. Today was the preliminary hearing. No matter what was happening in my personal life, I was still a lawyer, and this was still the biggest case of my career. I arrived at Sinclair & Co before most of the staff when the city was only beginning to wake up. By the time I reached the conference room, I looked composed and professional. No one would have guessed that less than twenty-four hours earlier, I’d been standing outside an operating room wondering whether my ex-husband would survive the night. The conference room was already partially occupied. Stacks of documents covered the table, coffee cups sat beside laptops, legal pads were open. Preparation
The Wife He Threw Away CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY THREE_ CLAIRE’S POV
The drive back to the hospital felt endless. My fingers remained wrapped tightly around my phone. Camilla’s words replayed over and over inside my head. “He moved.” Not “awake.” Not “conscious.” But he had moved. And somehow, that tiny piece of information had managed to crack open a door I had been trying very hard to keep shut. Hope. Hope was dangerous. Hope was cruel. It was what made pain hurt more when things went wrong. And lately, everything had gone wrong. So I tried to stop myself from believing too much. I refused to imagine Lucian opening his eyes. Refused to imagine hearing his voice again. I told myself I wouldn’t imagine any future that might not happen. Yet, despite all that, my foot pressed harder on the accelerator. Because some stupid part of me was already hoping anyway. ⸻ When I arrived at the hospital, Camilla was waiting near the ICU floor. The moment she saw me, her face lit up with a smile. “He moved again.” “What?
The Wife He Threw Away CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY-TWO_ EVA’S POV
The penthouse was silent. Not peaceful, just silence. The kind of silence that felt wrong. The kind that made the entire penthouse feel too large and too empty. Too quiet. I sat alone on the couch, staring at the television. No assistants, no manager, no publicist. I couldn’t even call Hart because the man was now in police custody. And I wasn’t foolish enough to call him and give Sinclair&co more evidence to prove my connection to him. There were no invitations from brands. No calls. Nothing. Just silence. The television continued playing. Every channel was discussing the same thing: Lucian Dhark. The shooting, Hart Sullivan, the arrest. Not me. Lucian. For perhaps the first time in years, I wasn’t the center of the story. And I hated it. I grabbed the remote and switched channels. Then switched again. And again. Nothing changed. Every station showed Lucian’s face. Every station showed footage from outside the hospital. Every station dis
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