Masuk
I never thought this day would come. I’ve imagined a lot of things that could go wrong in my marriage, but I never even imagined that it would come to this. And I never thought I would see it with my own eyes.
But there it was— a picture of my husband holding another woman close, smiling in ways he never smiled at me. To make it worse, it was not just any woman. It was Eva Sterling. “Multibillionaire, Lucian Dhark, reunites with superstar, Eva Sterling.” When I first read the headline, I was so shocked I could barely stand on my feet . For a moment, it felt like the world was spinning. The name ‘Eva Sterling’ haunted me. Eva was the woman who lived on magazine covers and television screens, the golden girl admired by the whole world. I grew up watching Eva on TV, in my tiny dorm room, wondering how someone could look so flawless. How someone could be so wanted. She always seemed so perfect, so untouchable and glamorous, almost as if she wasn’t part of the same world as people like me. And Lucian… Lucian had once chosen her. That knowledge lived like a ghost in our marriage, even on the days I tried to forget. I didn’t even realize when my phone slipped out of my trembling fingers and landed on the kitchen counter. My eyes burned with anger and hurt as I stared at the picture. Lucian had never looked at me like that. Not in five years. Not in all the quiet mornings when I made his coffee just the way he liked it. Not in the nights when I whispered “I love you”, begging for something he no longer felt. But now, he looked at Eva like she was his world. Eva Sterling was everything I wasn’t—famous, breathtaking, loved, and accomplished in her career. I sank onto the couch, with my head in my hands, staring at the photo as if the longer I looked, the less real it would become. “Claire?” A gentle voice pulled me back. Camilla, the housekeeper, stood in the doorway. “Are you okay, dear?” I lifted my phone and turned the screen toward her. “Did you see this?” Her eyes widened. “Oh, Claire…” She sat beside me, placing her hand on my shoulder, the way a mother would comfort a scared child. “These pictures… they don’t necessarily mean—” I didn’t let her finish. “Yes, they do.” My voice cracked despite my effort to sound composed. “I can’t believe he would do this… and with Eva. His ex.” Camilla sighed softly. “I know it looks bad, but you don’t know the whole story yet.” “No.” My voice came out firmer than I expected, far stronger than I felt. “But I know this is real.” We sat in silence for a several moments. Camilla rubbed my back gently, and her voice lowered to a whisper. “You know… I remember how Lucian used to look at you,” she whispered. “During your first months here. He wasn’t exactly warm _ he never had been —but he noticed you. He cared and he showed it.” She paused. “He had this… softness in his eyes. I haven’t seen that in a long time.” Camilla’s words stirred the memories inside me. I remembered the early days, when Lucian would brush my hair behind my ear during a late-night conversation, how he’d asked if I had eaten when I forgot meals, how he’d held my wrist gently when he thought I was upset. The small gestures and quiet warmth was enough for me to believe I mattered. But the warmth faded and faded until it was completely gone. Camilla’s voice pulled me back. “Something changed, but it wasn’t your fault.” She said, rubbing small circles on my back. “It was his.” It hurt more because it was true. She bit her lip, unsure what else to say to comfort me. There were no words that could fix this. Later that evening, the front door opened. Lucian was home. I sat in the living room, waiting for him like I had done every evening for five years. Lucian walked in as if nothing had happened. His black tailored suit was perfect, his expression calm and unreadable. “Claire.” He always acknowledged me by simply saying my name. He glanced at me before removing his coat. I watched him for a several seconds, silently gathering the courage to speak. I needed my voice to be steady. “Lucian, I saw the photos.” Silence fell between us. Sharp, heavy silence. He tightened his jaw. “I see.” He simply said. I rose from the couch. “The photos are everywhere. You and her. Together.” I swallowed. “Who is she?” I knew exactly who she was. I had seen endless pictures of them together before we got married. Lucian tilted his head slightly, an amused expression formed on his face. “Eva. You know Eva. Everybody knows Eva.” His words stung. Yes, everyone knew the famous actress Eva Sterling. “Yes… I know Eva,” I said quietly. “But I didn’t know she was back in the country. I didn’t know the two of you…”My voice faltered. “Are you happy?” The question startled him, but only for a moment. A frown formed on his face and I could tell he was growing irritated. “Happy? Claire, what kind of silly question is that?” He exhaled sharply. “I’ve had a long day. I don’t have time for your drama.” My eyes burned, my shoulders dropped and my heart dropped even lower. Moments passed between us as we stared at each other—a couple whose marriage was slowly collapsing. One loved too much. One did not love enough. “Claire,” Lucian said at last, sounding detached and distant. “You and I come from two different worlds. You know that. We want different things.” “I thought we wanted each other,” I whispered. “You’ve always been naïve,” he muttered. “It’s time to grow up, Claire.” Lucian’s words struck me like a blow. “Do you still love me?” The silence that followed was unbearable, heavy and painful. I had my answer. After a long moment, he sighed and picked up his coat. “Go to bed, Claire. It’s late.” He walked past me without touching me. Without even looking at me. Just like that, he ended the conversation— leaving me standing alone in the middle of the room, with nothing but the image of my husband and another woman, arm in arm, burned into my mind.The judge immediately struck his gavel. “Order!” I remained standing, completely still. For a moment, I couldn’t hear anything except the pounding of my own heart. Then I continued the questioning. “Did Eva want us dead?” Hart’s expression was grim. “She wanted you out of her way.” “That’s not my question.” He swallowed. “Yes, ma’am. She wanted you dead.” I closed my eyes for half a second, then opened them again. “And you carried out her instructions?” “Yes.” I looked down at my notes. There were still more questions. But before I continued, I needed to establish something. “Mr. Sullivan,” I called. “Everything you’ve told this court so far—are you saying you were forced to do these things?” “No.” He answered immediately. “Are you saying Eva controlled every decision you made?” “No.” “Are you claiming you are innocent?” Once again, his answer came immediately. “No.” I looked at him carefully. “You shot and stabbed Lucian Dhark on different occ
I heard a few murmurs behind me. I ignored them. “What did Eva ask you to do for her?” Hart sat up straighter. “Things.” I sighed. He had been instructed not to give vague answers. “What things?” I asked. “Things she didn’t want connected to her.” I took one step closer. “Be specific, Mr. Sullivan.” He exhaled. “Threatening people.” The courtroom became even quieter—except for the sound of reporters typing away on their devices. “Anything else?” “Following people.” “Anything else?” “Sometimes destroying things.” I waited. Hart continued. “Making problems disappear.” I turned slightly toward the judge, then back to Hart. “And you did these things?” “Yes.” “Because she asked you to?” He shrugged. “Most of the time.” “Most?” He hesitated. “There were things I did because I wanted to.” That answer caught my attention—as well as everyone’s. We had planned to show the jury that Hart was a flawed man himself, not just Eva’s puppet—that wou
I rose to my feet shortly afterward. “Your Honor, the prosecution would like to call its next witness.” The courtroom quieted. Everyone knew who it was before I even said the name. At the very least, they suspected. “Hart Sullivan.” A murmur swept through the room. Reporters immediately began typing. Some people turned to look at Eva, while others started whispering among themselves. The judge struck his gavel. “Order!” Gradually, the room settled into silence again. I looked at Eva. For the first time since she’d entered the courtroom, something had changed in her expression. It was barely noticeable—a tightening of her jaw, a narrowing of her eyes—but it was there. Then the courtroom doors opened and Hart walked in with two officers. He looked different—not physically—but something about him had changed since the last time I saw him. Perhaps I expected him to appear nervous—he didn’t. His eyes weren’t searching for Eva. He simply walked forward.
The courtroom filled up slowly. Lawyers moved between tables, court officers spoke quietly to one another, and reporters took their seats, already typing furiously on their gadgets. Margot and I were seated side by side, while Jonathan reviewed the documents spread across the table. I tried to focus—I really did. But somehow, my mind kept wandering. First to Hart, then to Eva. The phone, the messages, Hart’s warning. I didn’t realize when my fingers tightened around the edge of the file. “Stop.” I looked at Margot. “What?” “You’re doing it again.” “Doing what?” I asked, even though I knew exactly what she was speaking of. She rolled her eyes. “Thinking yourself into a headache.” I sighed in defeat, then sank deeper into the chair. “I can’t help it.” “You can.” She tapped the file in front of me.We have evidence. We have our key witness—Hart. We have the digital records. You need to trust the work we’ve done.” I nodded. “I do.” “Then breathe.” I i
I woke before my alarm. For several seconds, I remained completely still, staring at the ceiling. Then I remembered what day it was. The trial was starting again. After two weeks of waiting, preparing and wondering what Eva Sterling would do next, we were finally going back into that courtroom. I sat up very slowly. My hand instinctively moved to my stomach—a new habit. There was nothing to feel yet—no movement, no bump, nothing that would tell the world that my entire life had changed. But I knew that there was a tiny life inside me. My baby. Our baby. A smile tugged at my lips before anxiety quickly swallowed it again. But then again, what reason did I have to be anxious? Hart Sullivan had agreed to cooperate. The phone he’d given Margot contained hundreds of messages between him and Eva, spanning across years. We now had more evidence than we had ever even imagined we could get our hands on.We had a witness who knew Eva better than almost anyone. An
Hart was my last call. I knew that even before I dialed the prison. Perhaps that was why I stared at my phone for so long. Once, I had been able to call him and know everything would happen exactly the way I wanted. He listened. He obeyed. He never questioned me. Back then, Hart Sullivan would have given his life to protect me. Now everything was different. That bitch Margot Sinclair was messing with his head. I pressed the call button. It took a while before someone answered. “Eva?” Hart’s voice came from the other end of the line, rough and tired. I poured myself another glass of wine before going straight to the point. “Will you testify for me?” The silence that followed was gut-wrenchingly tight. Then he broke it with a bitter laugh. “No,” he spat. My heart sank. “What has happened to you, Hart?” I asked. “You didn’t even think about it.” “I don’t need to.” “You owe me!” I yelled before I could stop myself. “You owe me your life!” It was







