CHAPTER NINE_ Claire’s POV

I woke up alone again.

The other side of the bed was cold and empty. Almost like Lucian hadn’t slept there. Just like before.

I felt a familiar ache in my chest _ just like the first time he had left me like this.

I closed my eyes, convincing myself that this was different. Last night, I fell asleep with Lucian’s arms around me. He had held me like he was afraid to let go.

Waking up alone this morning, does not erase that.

He probably had an early meeting. He wasn’t abandoning me again.

Downstairs, the mansion was silent. The type of silence that made every other sound feel too loud— even my own heartbeat.

Camilla was in the kitchen, arranging fresh flowers in a vase. She looked up when she saw me.

“You’re awake.” She said gently.

I nodded. “What about Lucian?”

I saw Camilla’s hands go still for a second before she continued arranging the flowers.

“He came in very late. Left again not too long ago."

I felt my stomach twist. "Did he say where he was going?" I asked.

“No," she replied.

After a moment, she added quietly, "Mr. Dhark hasn't been sleeping much these days."

“Camilla," I said slowly, "has he been... like this before?"

She finally turned to face me. There was something sad about her expression.

“When Lucian feels cornered,” she said, “he disappears. He convinces himself it’s the right thing to do—even when it hurts people.”

Cornered by what? By who?

Before I could ask, I heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

Lucian walked in.

He looked exhausted. His tie was gone, his shirt was slightly wrinkled and dark circles appeared under his eyes.

When he saw me, he stopped in his tracks, startled. Almost like he hadn't expected to find me there.

“Claire.” He said softly.

Camilla quietly excused herself, leaving us alone.

“You didn't come back to bed.” I said, trying to sound casual. Not hurt.

“I didn't want to wake you." Lucian replied.

“You didn't wake me.” I stated. "You disappeared."

My tone was accusatory, even though I didn’t mean to be.

Lucian flinched slightly.

“I had to handle something."

There it was again. The vagueness… the distance.

But I wasn’t backing down.

“What kind of something?" I asked.

Lucian turned his back to me, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Work." He replied.

I saw his hands tremble a little.

“You've been saying that a lot.” I spoke quietly.

Lucian turned then, leaning against the counter, his eyes finally meeting mine.

That was when I saw the guilt in his eyes. So much guilt.

“I'm trying, Claire."

The words were meant to comfort me. But instead, they scared me.

Then his phone buzzed on the counter. He glanced at it and immediately froze.

I saw the name before he could turn the screen away.

Eva Sterling.

Lucian silenced the call immediately.

He noticed my gaze. “That was—" he started.

“Work?" I cut in, my eyes burning with anger.

His lips pressed into a thin line. "I don't want to fight."

“I don’t want to fight either.” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just want honesty."

He stepped closer, lifting my chin gently so I had no choice but to look at him.

His touch was careful… very different from what it had been last night.

“You have it.” He said.

But his eyes told a different story.

“Something is wrong” a voice in my head whispered.

I hated that voice. But it had been right before.

Later, we sat at the table together, eating breakfast we barely touched.

Lucian kept watching me like he was memorizing my face.

“Will you be home tonight?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

Lucian hesitated.

“I... don't know. I’ll try.”

He noticed my expression, then added;

“There are things I need to settle."

“With who?” I asked sharply.

“Claire—-“

I stood before he could finish. “Lucian... if something's wrong, you can tell me."

He looked away almost immediately.

When he stood to leave, he pressed a kiss to my forehead. Gentle and careful — like someone saying goodbye without the courage to say the word.

A farewell kiss.

I was carrying coffee I had made for Lucian, down the hallway when I heard her voice.

“I can’t keep living like this!”

I stopped in my tracks.

Eva.

Lucian’s voice came next, low and tired. “Lower your voice.”

“I’m serious, Lucian. You said you’d think about it.”

Her shrill voice was barely audible from the other end of the line.

“I told you, I’m handling it.”

My heart began to pound so loud, I thought he might hear it.

Then Eva said three damning words.

“I’m pregnant, Lucian. I can’t pretend this isn’t happening.”

The world tilted.

The coffee mug slipped from my fingers and shattered on the floor.

Pregnant!

It felt like something was splitting open inside my chest. My entire body would not stop shaking.

“I need time.” Lucian said. “I’m trying to do the right thing.”

Eva let out a soft laugh.

“There is no right thing,” she said. “There’s only who you’re willing to lose.”

I took a step back before my legs could betray me.

So this is why he’s been looking at me like he was saying goodbye.

The nausea hit me suddenly.

I barely made it to the bathroom before I was on my knees, retching violently.

When the nausea passed, I sat there on the cold tile, hugging myself, wondering why the world was so cruel to me.

That’s when I heard footsteps.

Lucian appeared in the doorway.

“Claire?” He called

I stood slowly, gripping the sink for balance.

“How far along is she?”

Lucian went completely still.

The look on his face told me everything he didn’t have the courage to say.

In that moment, I understood that I had already lost my husband. I just hadn’t been informed.

“It's not what you think," he finally managed to say. “Let me explain-"

I raised a hand.

My ears were ringing faintly, as though my body was trying to protect me by shutting out his voice.

“Were you ever going to tell me?" I asked.

Lucian didn't answer immediately.

"I was trying to protect you."

There it was.

Not I'm sorry.

Not I hurt you.

But I was trying. I had my reasons.

Every sentence was centered on him and his intentions.

And I finally understood that my pain was not the issue here. It was merely a side effect.

And that hurt more than the pregnancy itself.

I walked past him, grabbed my keys, and headed for the door.

“Claire,” he said again.

He didn’t follow me.

He didn’t stop me.

And that told me everything I needed to know.