Damien went still for a second, his brows knitting together like he was trying to make sense of what I had just thrown at him. Then, out of nowhere, he let out a low laugh—sharp, almost insulting, like he couldn’t decide whether to be amused or annoyed.
“What exactly are you talking about, Clara?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, that familiar cruel smirk creeping back into his expression.
My heart was pounding so loudly it felt like it was inside my head. My fingers shook, but I still forced myself to speak. “I already know the truth… about Ethan.”
The smirk on his face wavered.
“It was Camille,” I continued, my voice breaking a little. “She’s the one who told me everything. Why did you lie to me, Damien? Why hide the fact that your so-called brother is actually your son?”
He folded his arms, trying to look unfazed, but I caught it—just for a second. Something flickered in his eyes. Not quite guilt… but something close. It disappeared fast, replaced by cold arrogance.
“And then what?” he said flatly. “Let’s say it’s true. So what if I kept it hidden and made him my brother instead? What are you planning to do about it, Clara? Ruin me?”
“Yes,” I shot back, my voice cracking under the pressure. “Do you really think you can keep something like this buried forever? Ethan deserves the truth. He has the right to know—he needs to—”
I didn’t get to finish.
His hand struck my face again.
The sound cracked through the room. My head snapped to the side, vision blurring instantly, pain blooming across my cheek like fire.
Before I could even steady myself, he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him. His grip was brutal, digging into my skin. I could feel his breath near my face—too close, too hot, too angry.
“You really think I’ll let you do that?” he hissed. “Try exposing me and I swear, I’ll tell everyone who you really are. Your precious background? Fake. Your family? Paid actors. You’re nothing like the woman you pretend to be.”
“Damien—” I started, but my voice broke.
His words hurt worse than the slap.
And the worst part? He wasn’t bluffing. I could tell. He would destroy me without hesitation.
For a moment, I thought maybe I should just let it all fall apart. I was exhausted—of lying, of pretending, of carrying secrets that kept getting heavier every day. Maybe if everything came crashing down, I’d finally be free.
But then my grandmother came to mind.
Weak. Frail. Her heart already fragile.
If she ever found out what I did—if she learned I built my entire life on lies just to marry into this world—she wouldn’t survive it. I could almost picture her collapsing, the way she used to when she got too stressed. The thought froze me in place.
I couldn’t let that happen.
I was about to speak again, to push back despite everything, when the door suddenly opened.
“Enough.”
Regina’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.
She walked in slowly, composed as ever, her expression cold but controlled, eyes sharp with authority.
Damien immediately let go of me, jaw tightening as he stepped back.
Regina’s gaze moved between us before landing on him. “You wouldn’t dare,” she said quietly, each word heavy with warning. “Because if you destroy her, you destroy this family along with her—and I will make sure you don’t walk away from it either.”
She stepped further inside. “We kept that child hidden for a reason. For his safety. For this company. If our enemies ever discover Ethan is an illegitimate heir, they’ll tear him apart and use it to destroy everything you’ve built.”
Her eyes shifted to me. “You love him, Clara. You should understand that sometimes sacrifices are necessary.”
I stared at her, my chest tightening. “So everything you did… everything you showed me…” My voice dropped. “Was any of it real?”
Regina didn’t even hesitate. She looked at me like I was being naïve.
“You were the one who started the lies,” she said coldly. “Be grateful I even allowed this marriage. You came from nothing. I made you somebody.”
My breath caught.
“You wouldn’t be standing here if not for us,” she added. “So don’t you dare ruin what we built.”
Then she turned, heels clicking sharply against the floor, each step echoing like a final warning before she disappeared out the door.
Silence swallowed the room.
Then Damien spoke again.
“You can file for divorce if you want,” he said, voice suddenly low and controlled, “but remember this—I know where your grandmother is. And she still needs her medicine, doesn’t she?”
He didn’t wait for a response. He just left.
The door shut behind him.
And I stood there, frozen.
My cheek burned. My hands trembled. My entire body felt like it was collapsing inward as everything I had built—every lie, every sacrifice, every illusion—cracked at once.
No.
I couldn’t stay like this. I couldn’t keep drowning in this life.
I forced myself to move, grabbing my things, heading toward the door—ready to leave it all behind—
But then a voice stopped me.
“Not leaving yet?”
Camille was there, leaning casually against the doorway like she had been waiting for that exact moment. Her lips curled into a smug smile, eyes shining with quiet amusement.
“Are you really that easy to break?” she asked lightly.
I clenched my fists. “Camille, not now.”
She ignored me.
“You should leave,” she said simply, almost casually. “My sister’s back. She’s Ethan’s real mother—and Damien’s real love. She’s the one who belongs here, not you.”
For a split second, something inside me wavered.
Leaving suddenly sounded so simple. Walk away. Expose everything. Disappear from this mess of lies and control.
But that feeling didn’t last.
Because I had fought too hard to get here.
I wasn’t going to be erased so easily.
I straightened slowly, my voice turning sharp. “Go tell your sister something for me,” I said, stepping forward. “If she thinks she can just walk in and take everything, she’s going to regret it. I’m not letting go of Damien. If we’re all going to live in lies, then fine—we’ll all suffer together.”
I didn’t wait for her reaction.
I walked past her, heels striking hard against the marble floor, each step loud with defiance—even though my chest felt like it was breaking in silence.
That night, I packed my bags.
I needed air. Space. Anything far from the city, from the chaos, from all of them.
I went back to the province—to the small house where my grandmother lived. The woman who raised me when my own parents chose my sister over me.
When I arrived, she was by the window, knitting quietly, her hands thin and fragile. The moment she saw me, her face softened instantly.
“Clara,” she said gently. “You look exhausted. Did something happen?”
I forced a smile and shook my head. “Nothing, Mom,” I whispered, kneeling beside her. “I just wanted to come home for a while.”
She patted my head softly. “Then stay. Rest here.”
For a few days, I tried.
I cooked. I walked outside. I pretended the quiet could heal me. But it didn’t. The silence only made everything louder—Damien’s voice, Camille’s smirk, Regina’s threats echoing in my mind without end.
And when I finally decided to return to the city, I checked my phone.
Dozens of missed calls.
All from Damien.
My stomach twisted.
At the airport, I barely made it a few steps before cameras and microphones surrounded me. Reporters shouted my name from every direction, flashes exploding in my face.
“Mrs. Caldwell, is it true Ethan is your husband’s illegitimate son?”
“Did you know before marrying him?”
The questions blurred into noise, pressing in from all sides. My bag slipped from my hand. My heartbeat roared in my ears.
Everything spun.
And then—
Nothing.
