Dr Bethany Clary Novels & Stories

"Good morning, ma'am." Beatrice scanned me from head to toe, her smile widening. "Goodness, you are really beautiful. Are you Ethan’s girlfriend? It’s about time he brought some life into this mausoleum." I felt a flush creep up my neck, thinking of the life Ethan had actually brought into my world lately. "No, ma'am. I’m Claire. I work here as the archivist."

Clara's POV I received an unexpected visitor. She arrived at the foundation's original site on a Tuesday morning. Not for the program. For me specifically. Rosa called to tell me and I drove in. Her name was Professor Anya Sharma. She was head of the Architecture and Civil Engineering faculty at the country's leading technical university. She was sixty years old and she had the bearing of someone who had been the most important person in every room they had ever entered and had made peace with this as a fact rather than an aspiration.

Point to be noted: "His father is the owner of this university." Entering the classroom, I, as usual, took my favourite seat, which is beside the window and started arranging my stuff. Well, I am Claire Benett, a 20-year-old girl with average looks but blessed with a brilliant mind. I am a prodigy, btw, but still come second in the class because obviously the university topper is Adrian. He doesn't own the rank one; it's gifted to him by the Dean, and I am helpless to defend my title.

Sitting in the chair behind her desk, Bethany once again wrote in her journal. "I'm Bethany Carter, a real estate agent who can't find passion for her job. The days at my firm are long and tedious as I try to find my calling, or whatever it is that motivated me to choose this profession. I am a bold woman, bold enough to approach a stranger in a bar and offer him a drink. I am a shameless woman, so much so that I became my brother-in-law's lover.

“Be my moral support. My… non-theoretical entourage.” And that’s how, a month later, we found ourselves in a sterile conference hotel ballroom, surrounded by urban planners, academics, and consultants, all speaking a dialect of jargon that made our heads ache. We were fish out of water, dressed in our best “city” clothes that felt like costumes. Dr. Aris Thorne, resplendent in a corduroy blazer with elbow patches, introduced Clara with grandiose flair. “And here, representing the very *soil* of the coastal narrative, is Clara Gonzalez, educator and community pillar…”

“And?” “And there’s no one,” Claire said flatly, turning back to me. “I contacted every auditory specialist within a two-hundred-mile radius. Estelle trained at Vienna Institute, she’s published extensively, her success rate is higher than anyone else’s. The next best option is a man in Boston who has half her experience and charges three times as much.” The hope died instantly and I sagged against the wall. “So we’re stuck with her.” “For now,” Claire agreed grimly. “Which means we need to be more careful than ever. No more slips.”

“Beth, we need proof. Physical evidence. And to get it, Beta Riven needs to access the Alpha’s chambers when Claire isn’t there.” “You want me to spy on Claire.” “I want you to watch her movements. When she leaves the chambers, where she goes, how long she’s gone. Just information, nothing more. You won’t have to do anything that would put you directly in danger.” Beth was quiet for a long moment, her fingers drumming against the table. “I’ve noticed things,” she said finally. “Strange things about Claire’s behavior. The way she controls who sees the Alpha, how she’s always burning that incense, how the Alpha seems… different when she’s not around.”

The girl's cheek was red and slightly swollen, and her eyes were rimmed with pink as if she had been crying. Clara paused. "Are you all right? What happened to your face?" Emily looked up, startled. "I'm fine. Thank you for asking. It was just... a misunderstanding. Do you have an appointment with Mr. Kingsley?" "I don't have a formal appointment, but I have an urgent matter to discuss with him. I'm Clara Hayes, the project lead on the Whitmore rebranding." She showed her ID. "I was told I could come directly to his office."

“What in the world are you doing Chloe? Who gave you the authority to do this? Apologize to Mr. Alex and immediately return the patient to the ward.” Chloe wouldn't dare to defy the head nurse, so she could only obediently apologize and bring Lady Brittany back to her ward. Alex then went to find his mother’s primary physician to arrange for the surgery as soon as possible. Lady Brittany’s primary doctor was Dr. Cheryl and she was only twenty-six years old. Yet, she was already a renowned doctor with a great track record. She was the granddaughter of California’s famous genius Dr. James Coney. Not only was she smart, she also had looks that would bring Troy to its knees.

CLAIRE Four years had passed since my world had shattered. Claire Darlington—the woman who had been humiliated, betrayed, and discarded—was gone. In her place stood Clara Everson, CEO of Erebos Pharmaceutical. Sharp, focused, unyielding. Every scar, every sleepless night, every moment of pain had carved her into someone who could survive… and even thrive. My company had grown from a modest lab into a powerhouse, and every achievement reminded me that I could exist on my own terms. That I could command my life, and no one could take that away.