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CHAPTER FIFTEEN_ Claire’s POV

ผู้เขียน: Claire Ree
last update วันที่เผยแพร่: 2026-01-04 15:53:27
Lucian told me about the gala four hours before it began.

"There's a charity event tonight," he said, not bothering to look at me as he adjusted his cufflinks. "We need to appear united."

‘Need’

Not ‘would you like to?’

I waited foolishly, for him to ask if I wanted to go.

He didn't.

I looked up from where I sat. "Will Eva be there?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

Lucian hesitated before answering.

"She was invited separately," he replied. “As an actress.
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  • The Wife He Threw Away    CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN_ LUCIAN’S POV

    Claire. Claire. Claire. The name echoed through my head long after Hart Sullivan stopped speaking. The abandoned construction site had gone silent. Not peaceful. Never peaceful. The kind of silence that came right before violence. Hart stood a few feet away, hands loose at his sides, watching me with the relaxed confidence of a predator. Like he already knew how this ended. Maybe he did. Maybe I did too. “The police will be here in twenty-three minutes,” I said. Hart smiled. “Then I suppose we should make the most of the time.” The smile stayed on his face. Mine disappeared. For several seconds neither of us moved. The wind whistled through unfinished concrete and exposed steel beams. The pain in my shoulder pulsed steadily. A reminder that I should still be in a hospital bed. A reminder that I wasn’t. I exhaled slowly. “There are a couple things I want to know.” Hart’s smile widened. “Funny.” He tilted his head. “So do I.” I ignored that. “Why are you so

  • The Wife He Threw Away    CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN_ MARGOT’S POV

    The hospital room had become a war room. I found that mildly amusing. Two months ago I had been unconscious. Now security guards occupied every corner of the floor, police officers checked every visitor, and my husband was treating hospital food as though it were a personal insult. Life was strange. I sat upright in bed with my laptop open, and stack of files rested beside me. My reading glasses sat low on my nose. I watched my husband who occupied the chair near the window, grading his students’ papers. Then my phone rang. I answered immediately. “Margot Sinclair.” The managing partner of one of the city’s largest firms sounded nervous. Good. As he should. “We received your message.” “You received my warning.” A pause. “Margot—” “No.” I leaned back against my pillows. I didn’t care if I had to be a bully or the devil herself— I had to bring Eva to justice through whatever means legally possible. “Listen carefully.” I started.Eva Sterling is r

  • The Wife He Threw Away    CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND FOURTEEN_ LUCIAN’S POV

    Pain was a remarkable thing. When it was bad enough, it stripped life down to just the essentials: breathing, moving, surviving. Everything else became secondary. The wound felt like it was on fire. Every bump in the road had been a complete agony. Every movement a punishment. And yet, as I sat alone inside the abandoned construction site, staring out over rusted steel beams and unfinished concrete, I barely noticed any of it. Because I wasn’t thinking about the bullet. I was thinking about that bastard, Hart Sullivan. The site had belonged to Dhark Holdings once. Years ago, before the project had been abandoned. Before budgets shifted and priorities changed. Now it sat forgotten at the edge of the city. Empty, silent… perfect. Nobody would ever think of coming here. Nobody except the man I was waiting for. I leaned back carefully against the wall. I immediately regretted that, as the movement sent a sharp stab of pain through my body. I ignored

  • The Wife He Threw Away    CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND THIRTEEN_ CLAIRE’S POV

    The police station smelled like coffee, paperwork, and exhaustion. By the time I arrived, I already regretted being there. Not just because I was tired and the case was becoming impossibly draining. But because Eva Sterling was inside. And I knew exactly how draining she could be. Nathaniel met me outside the interview room. His expression said everything. “You’re going to enjoy this.” I snorted. “I doubt it.” “Oh, no.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You really will enjoy this.” That should have worried me. It did. A detective approached. “Miss Moreau.” He called. I turned. “It’s time.” I closed my eyes briefly, then nodded. “Let’s get this over with.” The interview room in this police station was smaller than I expected. Smaller than the one Dr. Ramon had been in. Gray walls, metal table and fluorescent lights. No glamour, no cameras, no adoring fans. Just more reality than Eva enjoyed. Eva sat on one side of the table. For

  • The Wife He Threw Away    CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND TWELVE_ LUCIAN’S POV

    I had never wanted to argue with a sixty-year-old woman more in my life. Yet somehow, Margot Sinclair was making it very difficult not to. The video call filled the screen mounted on the wall across from my hospital bed. Margot sat upright against her pillows, looking entirely too comfortable for someone who had just been told she was Hart Sullivan’s newest target. Beside her sat Professor Grant. Unlike his wife, he looked alarmed— as he should. Claire stood near the foot of my bed with her arms folded tightly across her chest. The detective assigned to Hart Sullivan’s case stood nearby. Nobody looked happy. Except Margot, who looked like she couldn’t have cared less. That was the problem. “I’ve already arranged additional security,” I said. My shoulder throbbed, my side ached— I ignored them. “There will be double the number of guards outside your room twenty-four hours a day.” Margot sighed dramatically. “You make it sound as though I’m under siege.”

  • The Wife He Threw Away    CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND ELEVEN_ EVA’S POV

    I had never hated silence so much before. But silence was all I had now. Not the peaceful or comforting kind— this silence was suffocating. The kind that of silence that settled in a room after a disaster. The kind that came after everything started falling apart. I sat alone in my penthouse, staring at the television on the wall. Every channel was talking about the same thing: The lawsuit Lucian had filed against me. The press conference that had shaken the entire country. The endless stream of accusations he had thrown my way in front of the entire country. The television replayed everything; one clip after the another. It was endless, yet I couldn’t stop watching. I should have— God knew I should have. But I couldn’t. My fingers tightened around the remote as I watched the annoying reporter on the television screen. “Mr. Dhark, are you saying that the infertility diagnosis which circulated publicly almost a year ago belonged to Eva Sterling and no

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