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CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND FIVE_ LUCIAN’S POV

作者: Claire Ree
last update 公開日: 2026-06-13 23:48:17
I was already awake when my phone rang.

That wasn’t unusual anymore.

Dhark Holdings occupied most of my waking hours. The lawsuit occupied the rest.

I was sitting alone in my office, halfway through my second cup of coffee, reviewing projected stock movement reports, with the board’s deadline heavy on my mind, when Tessa’s name flashed across my screen.

Something in my stomach tightened immediately.

I answered before the second ring. “Tell me.”

“Police tracked Dr. Ramon’s GPS signal.
Claire Ree

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

    I didn’t leave. Even after the nurses disappeared back into the ICU. Even after everyone else started leaving one by one. I couldn’t move. Lucian was alive, but barely holding on. And somehow, that felt worse. Because now there was hope. And hope could still be taken away. The hallway had become strangely quiet. Professor Grant had eventually gone home for a few hours. With Margot still in the hospital, it was up to him to take make sure their kids would be in school the next day. Lucian’s assistant, Tessa, was making calls. Nathaniel was speaking with detectives. Everyone was doing something. Everyone except me. I sat staring through the ICU window like some lost puppy, watching the machines breathe for Lucian. Watching numbers I didn’t understand flash across monitors. Like if I looked away, something terrible would happen. ⸻ “Claire.” A familiar voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked up to see Camilla standing in the hallway. Her eyes were red. She looke

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

    One minute I was sitting opposite Eva Sterling and her lawyer. The next— My phone rang. Nathaniel. Something inside me tightened immediately. Because the speed at which him and the detective had left the interrogation room had been abnormal. I answered. “Nathaniel?” Silence. Then: “Claire.” My stomach dropped. He sounded strained. Maybe even scared. I had never known Nathaniel to be scared. My grip tightened around the phone. “What happened?” Another pause “They got Hart.” He finally answered. For a second, relief exploded through me. Finally, they got that lunatic! After all these months of his threatening and stalking and attacking. After everything, they had finally gotten him. I couldn’t describe the relief I was feeling with words. Then Nathaniel spoke again. “But Lucian…” The relief vanished at once. I felt my heartbeat slow. “Nathaniel.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears. Weak. “What happened?” I asked. “He w

  • 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

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