บททั้งหมดของ The Wife He Threw Away : บทที่ 131 - บทที่ 140

The door closed behind Lucian with a soft click. For a moment, I didn’t move. The silence that followed wasn’t unfamiliar. This stupid mansion was built on silence—polished, deliberate and watchful. But this felt… different. It felt tighter. I exhaled slowly, although my gaze remained fixed on the door long after he was gone. I was almost certain it was that dull old housekeeper that had called him. The conversation between Lucian and I didn’t go the way it was supposed to. I replayed it anyway. His voice, his expression. The way he had barely even raised his tone, hadn’t reacted, hadn’t engaged. He hadn’t tried to negotiate or attempted to hold on. My fingers curled slightly at my sides. He didn’t try to stop me. That was the part that didn’t fit. That was what annoyed me so much. Not with everything else. Lucian Dhark didn’t walk away from things that mattered to him. Unless— I straightened, forcing the thought away before it could settle. No. He

I didn’t feel nervous. That was the first thing I noticed as I stepped out of the car and into the morning air. Not calm in the way people pretended to be before something important. This calmness wasn’t forced or even rehearsed. Just… steady. The courthouse stood ahead, already surrounded by movement—press clustered near the entrance, cameras angled, voices rising the moment I came into view. “Claire—over here!” “Ms. Moreau! Any comments on today’s hearing?” “Do you think Langford can win against Virex?” I didn’t slow down— not for the questions, not for the noise, not for the incessant flashes. A week ago, they had been watching me for something else. A reaction, a crack, or even a mistake. Today— They were watching to see if I would win. I walked past them without breaking stride. — Inside the courthouse, everything shifted. The noise outside dulled at once, replaced by something quieter. Something sharper and familiar. This was where things made

I didn’t rush things. There was no reason to. Chaos belonged to people who had lost control. I hadn’t. I sat in front of the mirror, the room quiet around me, the sun rays spilling in from the windows just enough to illuminate the room and highlight every detail of my reflection. I studied my face the way an artist would study a blank canvas. Not with emotion, but with intent. The makeup brushes were already laid out on the vanity in front of me, aligned, clean, and precise. I picked one up, slow and careful. Then I began. A shadow beneath my left eye first—subtle, uneven, layered carefully until it resembled something organic. Not something dramatic, not something theatrical, but something believable. Good. As an actress, these skills came in handy. I tilted my head slightly, assessing the black eye I had just created. Then I moved to my cheekbone— a faint discoloration, soft blending. Enough to suggest impact, not exaggeration. I leaned in closer, narrow

I didn’t go to Sinclair & Co for the case.Well… not entirely. The hearing was over. The outcome—for now—was clear. Claire had done more than hold ground. In fact, she had shifted it.But that wasn’t why I was there. I stepped out of the elevator and moved down the corridor with ease, acknowledging a few familiar faces without slowing down. The energy in Sinclair&co had changed. It always did in a law firm after a strong showing in court. The atmosphere was sharper, but somehow lighter. Charged with determination. Claire’s office door was slightly ajar. I paused for half a second before pushing it fully open. Claire was exactly where I expected her to be—behind her desk, with her sleeves rolled, and files spread out in precise order. No celebration, no pause.Just work. Of course. I leaned lightly against the doorframe. “You’re not celebrating.” I said. She didn’t look up immediately or express surprise at my sudden arrival. “There’s nothing to celebrate yet,” she said,

I couldn’t focus, no matter how hard I tried. For over an hour, I sat at my desk, with the same files open in front of me, and the same numbers staring back—but nothing was sticking. Every line blurred into the next, every detail slipping past me without actually landing or forming something concrete. That wasn’t like me. “This shouldn’t be happening” But it was. And I knew it was because no matter how many times I tried to redirect my thoughts, they circled back to the same place. Nathaniel. “I’m done standing next to it.” I leaned back slightly in my chair, exhaling slowly. He wasn’t exactly wrong. And that was the problem. I hadn’t chosen Lucian. But then I hadn’t chosen Nathaniel either. I had asked him to stay without giving him anything solid to stay for. That was stupid. And probably a little selfish too. My fingers tightened slightly against the edge of the desk. I hadn’t been fair to him. Or even to myself. When the realization had full