All Chapters of The Wife He Threw Away : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

By the time evening came, and the city outside had started becoming quiet lights and distant traffic, the files on the conference table had begun to blur together. Witness statements, Lucian’s motions, everything was beginning to make my stomach churn. I turned another page of the deposition summary and realized I had no idea what I had just read. My eyes lifted slowly from the paper. The conference room looked like the aftermath of a storm. Documents were scattered across the table, Margot’s laptop glowing faintly beside a half-empty coffee cup that had long gone cold. We had been here for hours, planning, preparing and anticipating the first court hearing tomorrow. And yet the closer tomorrow came, the more it felt like standing in front of something massive and immovable. Because tomorrow wasn’t just another legal proceeding or going through another legal briefing. Tomorrow was Lucian. For years, I had watched Lucian dismantle competitors with impeccable precisi

The courthouse steps were in complete chaos when we walked outside. Cameras started flashing the minute we stepped out, brighter and harsher than before. Reporters surged forward, their voices rising over each other as they thruster microphones in my direction. “Claire!” “Mrs. Dhark, how do you respond to the financial records presented today?” “Did you remain in the marriage for the lifestyle?” “Are the allegations against Mr. Dhark financially motivated?” The questions hit hard like stones. Like I was being persecuted. The narrative was changing in real time. I kept walking, with Margot’s hand pressed lightly but firmly against my back, guiding me down the steps toward the waiting car. The reporters followed us hurriedly, with all their equipments, as they tried to keep up. “Claire, are you asking for half of Dhark Holdings?” “Was the marriage financially beneficial for you?” I didn’t answer. I didn’t even look at them. But the words sank in anyway. The n

Camilla didn’t say anything else. She just stood in front of me, with her hands clasped tightly in front of her apron, her gaze fixed somewhere on the tiled floor. I could see the conflict reflecting on her face. And for a long moment, neither of us spoke. Finally, she looked up to meet my gaze, and let out a quiet breath. “I have worked for the Dhark family for almost three decades, Claire.” Her voice was gentle, but there was a heaviness in it that made my chest tighten. I nodded slowly. I knew she had been here for a long time. Camilla had been part of this house long before I ever stepped through its doors. She had known Lucian since he was a little boy. But then she continued. “Your husband’s family… they have helped mine for many years.” Her voice was sad and reflective. “When my brother was sick…” She paused then, as though the memory itself was difficult to say out loud. “Mr. Dhark paid for his treatments.” I blinked in surprise. I hadn’t known that. C

When Margot announced the witness, I immediately knew that something was wrong. “A member of the Dhark household staff.” The words had barely left her mouth before I realized who she was talking about. Camilla. For a moment, I thought I had misheard. Camilla had worked for my family longer than most people in that courtroom had been alive. She had been there when my father still ran the company. She had watched the mansion change hands, watched generations pass through its halls. And now she was walking toward the witness stand, seemingly to testify against me. To defend a woman she had just met five years ago— Claire. The courtroom murmured softly as Camilla slow approached the stand. Camilla moved carefully, as though each step required thought. I noticed her hands tremble slightly when she placed them on the rail of the stand to take the oath. I leaned back in my chair, studying her. Not angry. At least not yet. Mostly, I was honestly surprised. Besid

The courtroom remained still for several seconds after Camilla spoke. “Waiting for her husband to come home.” The words seemed to echo in settle over the room like dust after something had been destroyed. Then the murmuring began. It was like a ripple of whispers moving through the gallery as people leaned toward one another, murmuring things behind raised hands. I could hear the sound of keyboards clicking as reporters typed furiously. The judge struck the gravel against the bench. “Order!” The sound snapped the room back into place, and restored order to the court, but the tension remained thick in the air. I kept my gaze on the table in front of me, my hands clasped together so tightly, my fingers had began to ache. I had thought hearing the truth spoken in court might feel like vindication. I was wrong. It didn’t. Instead, it felt like standing naked in front of strangers. Every humiliation, every silent night, every moment I had pretended things were fine…