Claire’s POV
The traitor stood before me—clear as day.
The man I fought so hard for didn’t even look my way.
There he was, with his mistress, parading around like some royal couple adored by the crowd.
My fists clenched tight, but my lips stayed sealed. My chest thundered with one unwavering resolve:
The blood of a D’Amore never lets betrayal go unpunished.
Grant thought he had gotten rid of me.
He hadn’t seen who I truly was.
Cheers still echoed behind me as I walked down the hotel corridor.
The divorce papers were crushed in my hand. The world might be crumbling before my eyes, but I refused to let a single tear fall—not until I’d fully walked out of this nightmare.
But then, my steps were blocked.
“Claire.”
Paul, Grant’s personal assistant, stood in my way.
He didn’t even call me Mrs. anymore.
In his hand was another folder—thicker than the last.
His expression held not a shred of pity.
“You need to sign this before you leave.”
I glanced at the folder. “What now?”
“A legal agreement. You waive all rights to any shared assets. No compensation. No personal belongings are to be taken. Even the gown you’re wearing tonight isn’t yours. Including the wedding ring.”
“How charming,” I said flatly. “So now I’m just a trespasser in my own life?”
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” Paul hissed. “We also have a non-compete clause ready. To prevent you from abusing the connections you gained during your time with Mr. Grant.”
I let out a bitter laugh.
Paul.
I was the one who had chosen him to be Grant’s assistant. He came from nothing. I had trusted him completely—to stand by Grant’s side.
He used to call me Fairy Godmother, because I never judged anyone by status.
But now? Everything I taught him—he’d thrown it away.
My family was right.
Everyone gets a chance. But not everyone survives it.
“The connections I built?” I narrowed my eyes.
“I’m the one who brought them in—with the name I kept hidden.”
A laugh rang out behind me.
“You should be grateful. At least you’re being let go without a lawsuit.”
Avery appeared with a smile as sharp as a blade.
“Because the company could’ve dragged you into court for defamation.”
“Like the fact you transferred some of Grant’s assets into accounts under your name.”
“What?”
“Oh, hit a nerve?” Avery raised an eyebrow. “Getting defensive already?”
Before I could answer, Grant appeared. His gaze was ice-cold.
“What’s the combination to be safe?”
I frowned. “Safe?”
“Bring it out.”
Two large men hauled in a small steel box.
I recognized it. My safety.
My secret place—where I kept the past hidden to protect our future.
“You kept this from me?” Grant growled. “What else have you been hiding, Claire?”
I stepped forward, trying to take it back.
“Don’t touch it!” I shouted. “Take everything else—but not this!”
Paul grabbed my arm and yanked me back.
“You have no rights anymore.”
The safe was ripped from my hands—along with what was left of my heart.
“Open it,” Grant commanded.
“Now.”
I inhaled sharply, choking back tears and fury.
“The combination…” I said, voice shaking, “is our wedding date.”
Grant froze.
“Do you remember, Grant?” I whispered.
“You said it was the best day of your life.”
He nodded slowly, then began punching in the numbers.
Wrong.
He tried again. His hands were trembling.
Wrong.
His face changed. Jaw clenched. Avery leaned in, trying to whisper something, but Grant was spiraling.
Wrong. Again.
“You don’t remember.”
My voice was soft, wounded.
“I thought we shared that day. Turns out…”
He looked away. Couldn’t meet my eyes.
I stepped forward.
With icy fingers, I entered the numbers.
Click.
The lock disengaged. The safe creaked open.
All eyes turned to its contents.
Grant leaned in, breath caught in his throat—curiosity bleeding through his anger.
