Clara laughed softly. It was a quiet sound, but it carried confidence.

"Nice to meet you, Sophia," she said.

Sophia leaned over the table, scanning the documents spread across its surface.

"So this is the famous engagement agreement," she muttered.

The room held its breath while she examined the pages.

Finally she looked up. Her gaze met Clara's directly.

"Impressive," Sophia said slowly. "I didn't know you had it in you."

Clara's smile didn't change. "I think you'll find," she replied calmly, "that I am full of surprises."

The tension in the room thickened again. Jeffery watched the exchange carefully, his expression thoughtful. For the first time since Clara entered the room, he seemed genuinely curious about how things would unfold.

Eventually the chairman cleared his throat.

"I believe we have seen enough excitement for one meeting," he said.

The directors quickly began gathering their papers. "We will reconvene once the engagement is officially announced."

One by one, the board members left the room. Soon only Jeffery, Clara, and Sophia remained. Sophia leaned casually against the table.

"So," she said, looking at Clara. "What's the real story?"

Clara's smile softened slightly.

"This union is just beginning." she said quietly.

Sophia laughed under her breath.

"I can already tell this is going to be entertaining."

She glanced once at Jeffery before walking toward the door. "I'll leave you two lovebirds to it."

When the door closed behind her, the room finally fell silent. Jeffery turned toward Clara.

"Well," he said, "that went better than expected."

Clara raised an eyebrow. "Did it?"

‎Jeffery smiled faintly.

‎"The board has accepted the engagement. That means they have no choice but to approve my leadership."

‎Clara nodded slowly. "Yes, "You've won the first round." She said.

‎Jeffery studied her carefully.

‎"And what about you?"

Clara's answer came without hesitation. "I get exactly what I came for."

‎For a moment neither of them spoke.

‎Then the lights flickered for few seconds. The entire room suddenly went dark.

‎Jeffery frowned. ‎ "What the hell..."

‎Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. Clara's expression changed instantly.

‎Jeffery's voice lowered. ‎ "What's going on?"

‎Clara's eyes gleamed faintly in the darkness.

‎ "Looks like we're not alone." she whispered.

A blade sliced through the air, metal glinting as it cut toward Jeffery. Clara shoved him hard, throwing him off balance. The knife plunged into her stomach, and she gasped, pain stealing her breath. The attacker muttered something, hesitated, then signaled his partner. They vanished into the shadows.

‎The room fell silent except for Clara's ragged breathing, the faint echo of their retreat still lingering in the air. Jeffery rushed to her side, pressing his jacket against the wound. He could feel the warmth of the blood soaking through the fabric. "Raven's... Clan," she whispered.

‎Jeffery's eyes narrowed, sharp and cold, scanning the room for any sign they might have left something behind. He lifted her, moving quickly, careful not to jostle her more than he had to. Reaching behind the desk, his fingers found the hidden panel. With a quiet push, the wall slid open, revealing the narrow passage behind it. Shadows clung to the edges as he stepped into the darkness. The walls were cool against his arms as he carried Clara down the narrow corridor. The passage ended abruptly in the underground garage.

‎Jeffery eased her into the armored sedan, pressing a cloth to the wound and glancing around the empty space to ensure no one was watching. The engine hummed softly, a quiet but steady presence against the chaos of the night.

‎He spoke into the encrypted line, his voice low and direct. "Office breach. Track Raven's Clan. Lock everything down, all access points, full perimeter." He shifted his focus back to Clara, noting how her breathing was uneven, shallow, but steady enough for now. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from her face.

‎‎He called his personal bodyguard, Logan, to come to the underground garage. Logan arrived within 3 minutes. He started the engine and drove out of the garage.

The city streets passed in streaks of light and shadow, a blur against the armored vehicle. Every intersection, every reflective surface, held the possibility of surveillance, of eyes watching. Jeffery's mind cataloged every detail, already planning contingencies for any misstep by Raven's Claw. He didn't speak unless necessary, the silence of the car filled only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional groan from Clara.

‎At the hospital, Jeffery bypassed the chaos of the emergency room, moving with authority and precision. He guided her directly to a private room, the staff complying without question.

‎"Secure this floor. No one in or out," he ordered Logan, whose expression betrayed nothing. The nurse worked efficiently, her hands steady as she prepared equipment and monitored vitals, but Clara's condition worsened despite their speed.

‎Jeffery's phone buzzed on the side table, a single message flashing briefly: "You will pay."

‎He looked up slowly, his eyes cold, weighing the threat, assessing what their next move might be.

‎The door swung open, and a shadow entered, cautious, tense. "It's not safe here," the figure whispered. Jeffery drew his gun without hesitation. "You don't understand. They're waiting," the shadow said. Jeffery's grip didn't waver. "What do they want?" His tone was controlled, calm, like ice.

‎The shadow's voice dropped further, almost swallowed by the room. "You." The word lingered, heavy with intent, filling the silence around them like smoke. Jeffery's eyes locked onto the shadow, assessing every angle, every possibility. "Get out," he said, his voice ice cold. No emotion, only authority. The shadow paused, then nodded, disappearing as quickly as it had come. "They'll come for you again. You can't protect her here."

"I'll take her home." The words were simple, decisive, leaving no room for argument. Jeffery turned to Logan. "Get the car ready. We're moving her." The room fell silent except for Clara's shallow breathing, the faint hum of medical equipment, and the quiet movements of the nurse packing up her supplies.

‎Clara was lifted into the sedan once more, Jeffery sitting beside her. The drive was a blur of city lights, shadows stretching along empty streets. Every intersection held risk, and Jeffery's eyes scanned relentlessly, cataloging escape routes, potential ambush points, and any hint of danger lurking around.

‎At the mansion, Jeffery carried Clara to a private floor, a level no one had ever entered except him. The hallway was long, silent, the air conditioned to precise temperature, filtered and secure. The room was prepared for emergencies, spacious and methodical, held everything she might need. A private nurse waited, tools ready, monitoring equipment aligned perfectly. Jeffery instructed her on every aspect of care: vitals, wound treatment, and observation points. Clara was laid on the soft bed.

‎The mansion was alive with technology, silent but vigilant. Surveillance cameras, motion sensors, and electronic locks monitored every hallway, every window. Jeffery moved around, checking systems, ensuring that no vulnerability remained. Outside, the city slept, unaware of the predator in its midst and the danger he had just neutralized.

‎Hours passed, Clara rested fitfully under the nurse's vigilant eyes. Jeffery observed the significance of the Raven's Clan name, and why Clara had stepped forward in front of him. His mind ran scenarios, but his face remained calm, unreadable, no emotion surfaced.

‎Far away, in a cramped apartment, a stranger leaned forward, eyes fixed on a muted television. He had expected headlines, reports of the Rothwell attack, a flash of chaos in the news, but none appeared. The feeds were calm and normal. A faint smirk crossed his lips.

‎"Nothing had leaked, nothing had gone public. For tonight, Jeffery Rothwell had won," he whispered.

‎Jeffery went to the room where Clara was resting. He stood beside her bed, his eyes fixed on her face. He leaned in, voice barely audible. "You're safe now. But this isn't over."

‎The door creaked, and Logan stepped in quietly. "Sir, we've got something." Jeffery turned, eyes narrowing. "What is it?" Logan's expression was grim. "They left a message. It's on the CCTV." Jeffery's jaw clicked. "Play it."

‎The screen flashed to life, showing a masked figure. "You've won this round, Jeffery. But next time, it won't be your Bride." The screen went black. Jeffery's eyes returned to Clara's face.

"There won't be a next time," he whispered.

‎Clara woke slowly, her eyes blinking against the soft glow of the room. The private nurse had already left, leaving the space silent except for the faint sound of medical equipment. Her stomach ached, but it was bearable now, the bleeding stopped and the worst of the shock faded.

‎Jeffery sat in a chair nearby, his gaze fixed on her. He didn't speak at first. Clara's movements were hesitant as she tried to sit up, but a hand pressed firmly on her shoulder stopped her.

‎"You won't be going anywhere," Jeffery said quietly, his tone calm but firm. "There are eyes watching, always. Until I say otherwise, this is where you stay."

Clara swallowed, understanding the weight behind his words.

‎It wasn't a question, it was an order. Curiosity, and a strange sense of dependence mixed inside her. Her voice trembled slightly as she asked, "Why... why now?"

Jeffery's eyes didn't waver. "Because the world outside doesn't know yet who's safe. And you're not leaving my sight until it does."

Clara exhaled slowly, sinking back against the pillows. She realized the truth behind his words, everything had changed overnight. The news had broken hours ago.

‎Rothwell Enterprises confirmed her engagement to Jeffery Rothwell, the heir to the empire. Headlines flashed across multiple channels:

‎"Jeffery Rothwell Announces Engagement; Empire Secures New Alliance".

‎Details about the wedding were sparse, but speculation spread quickly, and people were already setting dates. Clara's chest tightened, the engagement was official, public, and her life had shifted entirely into Jeffery's hands.

‎Jeffery leaned back in his chair, the cigarette in his hand glowing faintly as he inhaled deeply.

‎Smoke curled around him, wisps floating in the sterile light of the room. He exhaled slowly, letting the haze mix with his thoughts. The step he had taken yesterday had been risky but necessary. Making the engagement public now secured not just the assets, but the entirety of Rothwell influence. It was about power, control, and the certainty that no one could threaten what belonged to him.

‎Clara had become the key to locking the empire together, and Jeffery wasn't leaving anything to chance. He watched her silently, studying her expression. She didn't fully understand what she had signed, he realized.

‎That contract, that engagement, bound her legally and strategically. Outside threats existed, but her life wasn't at risk as long as the public facade held. And if anyone tried to challenge that, Jeffery was more than capable of eliminating the danger. Still, there was a small part of him that noted the fact that she had protected him with her own body yesterday.

‎Risking herself for a man whose empire she barely understood, who valued control above all else. He smirked faintly to himself, it didn't matter. There were always contingencies, always new moves. If she failed to play her part, there were other women. It was business, not sentiment.

‎Clara attempted a weak smile. "So... I'm officially yours now?" she asked, her tone teasing, though the edge of nerves showed. Jeffery didn't answer immediately. He raised his hand slowly, pointing at the window overlooking the city skyline. "You'll perform tonight," he said, his voice low, precise. "But not on any stage, not for anyone else. Only here, only for me. Every Thursday night, like I before."

‎She blinked at him, a mix of amusement and disbelief on her face. She had expected strict instructions, but this level of control surprised her. Still, she felt compelled to comply. Play the part of the perfect bride, the contract wife. For now, she would oblige. She lay back, letting the room's quiet settle over her.

‎The nurse returned around evening time to check her vitals and ensuring every tool was in place.

‎Jeffery only observed without interference, his mind already moving ahead. Outside the room, he knew eyes were watching, whispers carried by those who wanted leverage. He wasn't worried. Every angle had been considered including the possible outcome.

‎Clara rested, unaware of how much power was converging around her. He had made sure of it.

‎Meanwhile, in another part of the city, his sister moved through an entirely different world. Shopping bags weighed down her arms, designer labels reflecting in the glass walls of the boutique. She laughed with her friends, a clear, careless sound that masked her darker intent.

‎Later, champagne in hand, she lounged beside her private pool at home, the evening lights casting glitter across the water. Her mind, however, was far from the parties or the shopping. She thought of Jeffery, of Clara, of the life that now belonged legally and publicly to him. Her lips curved into a thin smile. One day, she told herself, Clara would be removed. She would have Jeffery for herself.

‎Back at Jeffery's mansion, Logan returned with groceries balanced in his hands. Jeffery had sent him earlier.

‎Jeffery entered the room where Clara is resting. "Come," he said simply. Clara hesitated, still in small pains from her injuries, but obeyed. She knew there was no room for defiance here.

‎Jeffery gestured toward the kitchen area. "Make something to eat," he ordered. His tone carried no warmth, no concern. He didn't care that she was recovering, that her body ached, or that she still felt weak. She was to perform the task because he demanded it. Logan had prepared meals before, followed instructions precisely, but now it was Clara's turn.

‎Her fingers trembled slightly as she arranged ingredients on the counter, she feels weak. She had learned to cook, but this was no leisurely task. Every thing is being monitored.