Clara Walton clutched Ethan Blackwood's shirt with both hands, her knuckles white, the fabric wrinkled under her desperate grip.

She was stiff with fear-even wrapped in his arms, she couldn't relax.

Ethan looked down, his eyes now adjusted to the dark. He could see Clara's tear-streaked face, her cheeks pale and wet with silent sobs.

"Don't cry. I'm right here," he said, his voice low and surprisingly gentle.

But Clara didn't stop. Her soft cries grew more pitiful, like a wronged kitten with nowhere else to turn.

The sound tugged at something deep in Ethan's chest-concern mixed with something unfamiliar. He'd never seen Clara like this.

"Stop crying," he repeated, this time with a slight edge.

Startled, Clara looked up. Her tear-filled eyes shimmered in the dimness, heartbreakingly fragile.

Seeing her like that made Ethan feel almost cruel.

"I said stop crying." His voice dropped again.

And just like that, she broke.

Ethan swallowed hard, sighed quietly, then leaned in and captured her lips with his.

The sudden kiss swallowed everything-her sobs, her panic, all of it vanished like smoke.

In that dark elevator, Ethan was her only anchor.

She clung to his arm as if he were her lifeline, responding with a desperation she'd never shown before.

His breathing grew heavier.

In such a confined space, the heat between them quickly took over.

What had been tension now snapped-chaos took hold.

They were like two trapped souls, every touch igniting something fierce.

Yet Ethan hadn't completely lost control.

But in Clara's mind, this wild moment felt like a twisted kind of balance-one she didn't want to let go of.

"Clara." Ethan breathed, barely managing her name.

Before he could finish, Clara pulled him closer again.

He gripped her waist, his eyes darkening. "You're really trying to test me right now?"

Clara only let out a soft, dazed sound.

Then, suddenly, the elevator lights flickered back on, and Ethan's phone rang.

Clara blinked in the brightness, looking disoriented.

When she realized how closely she was pressed against Ethan, her face flushed with embarrassment.

And echoing through the lit space was that familiar ringtone-Fiona Barrington.

That snapped Clara back to reality instantly. She quickly stepped back, trying to steady her breathing.

Her heart was racing, almost painfully.

Ethan glanced at his phone and casually released her.

Clara kept her expression neutral, and Ethan didn't bother hiding anything-he answered the call as if nothing had happened.

"Ethan, am I interrupting something?" Fiona's soft voice came through.

His breathing was still uneven. "No."

Fiona noticed but kept her tone smooth. "I'm having dinner tonight to discuss a film project. I believe you know him-care to join us?"

Classic Fiona-surface-level courtesy with the door left wide open.

That was her game.

Ethan didn't immediately agree.

Clara lowered her gaze, a bitter smile forming. It wouldn't be the first time she felt like a joke.

But in that moment, something rebellious stirred inside her-she didn't want Fiona to win so easily.

So she reached out, her fingers lightly curling around Ethan's.

He noticed immediately and glanced down at her as if asking what she was doing.

Then Clara's voice came through the speaker, soft and deliberately sweet:

"Babe, I'm still a little scared of the dark. Stay with me tonight, okay?"

Her cheeks were still flushed from crying, and that soft, pleading tone was borderline lethal.

It could melt anyone on the spot.

Ethan's eyes darkened as he watched her. He knew this wasn't accidental-he wasn't that oblivious.

And sure enough, a sharp intake of breath came from the other end.

"I. am I interrupting something?" Fiona's voice suddenly wavered, as if she might cry.

Clara stayed perfectly still.

She wanted to see what Ethan would do.

Before, the outcome would've been obvious-Ethan would've gone to Fiona.

But this time. what he said next completely threw her.

He didn't deny it. Just said flatly, "Yeah. You kind of are."

There was a pause. Then a flustered, rushed reply: "I'm sorry. I'll go by myself. Sorry for bothering you."

Click.

Fiona hung up.

Clara began to calm down.

She'd definitely overreacted-gone full impulsive. She'd actually tried to mess with Fiona right in front of Ethan.

And before, she'd always hidden that side of herself.

She braced herself for Ethan to criticize her.

But instead-he simply took her hand. It caught her completely off guard.

Just then, the elevator doors slid open, finally operational. The staff outside looked like they were about to faint when they saw who was inside.

"M-Mr. Blackwood." one stammered, visibly shaking.

Ethan didn't even flinch. He gave them a cold look and walked out, pulling Clara along with him.

She nearly stumbled, and he steadied her without breaking stride.

"Aurelux can't even maintain basic emergency lighting?" His voice turned icy, full CEO mode. "This better not happen again."

"Yes, sir," the staff replied in unison, standing at attention as if facing dismissal.

They wanted to explain it wasn't their fault but didn't dare.

I mean, what were the odds of Ethan Blackwood getting stuck in their elevator?

Worse than winning the lottery.

Clara bit her lip absently. Then Ethan's voice dropped again, low and firm:

"My wife is afraid of the dark. I don't want her frightened like this again."

"Yes, sir," came the immediate, hushed reply.

Clara didn't react much, but her fingers curled slightly.

He. actually said that for her?

But the real surprise?

She'd just humiliated Fiona. She'd heard the hurt in Fiona's voice.

And Ethan didn't even scold her for it?

-

Once outside, Clara had fully composed herself.

She stopped walking, and Ethan paused beside her, watching her.

"Thank you," she said after a moment, biting her lip slightly.

She didn't mention anything else.

Remembering what happened in the elevator, her ears grew warm.

Ethan kept his gaze on her, unreadable, then suddenly found her shy expression somewhat endearing.

Far better than the overly polished façade she usually wore.

But then, Clara spoke again-and what she said next completely shattered the mood.

"You can drop me off here. My mother is waiting upstairs." Clara Walton was never one to mince words.

She said it and fully intended to leave immediately.

Ethan Blackwood's expression turned cold.

His voice dropped several degrees. "Clara, I didn't take you for the type to use someone and discard them immediately. How heartless."

Clara paused. Seriously? That was his take?

But seeing the storm brewing on Ethan's face, she didn't rise to the bait.

"I'm afraid of the dark. I have claustrophobia. If you'd bothered to learn even the basics about me, you'd know that people in panic don't always act rationally."

She stated it calmly, as if reciting from a manual.

Then she added, after a brief pause, "As for what happened earlier. I was just playing my part as Mrs. Blackwood. That's all."

Her tone carried a hint of irony.

"I had to push Fiona a little. Wasn't that the plan? If we're pretending, why not commit fully? Otherwise, why are we still married? How else would Fiona feel compelled to return?"

She laid it all out without flinching. Completely unbothered.

Ethan could barely breathe from the force of her words.

She remained perfectly composed, and that cool detachment made him feel sick inside.

With a cold laugh, Ethan said, "Wow. You've really outdone yourself, Clara."

"Thanks, hubby." Clara's voice was playfully sweet, utterly unfazed. "So. may I go in now?"

"Get lost," Ethan snapped.

Clara didn't hesitate for a second. She turned and walked straight down the hall toward the hospital room.

Ethan stood rigidly, his eyes fixed on Clara's retreating figure until the door closed behind her and she vanished from sight.

Then he turned and left.

All the heat between them earlier? It had been one-sided. Only Ethan had taken it seriously.

What a joke.

.

That night, at a private club in River City.

Graham Anderson glanced at Ethan, his tone half-teasing. "Weren't you with Clara? What happened? Got kicked out? So now you're here drinking with me?"

Ethan ignored him, downing one drink after another as if money were nothing.

Graham clicked his tongue and circled the table to sit beside him.

Ethan shot him a sidelong glance.

"You sure about this? Fiona's back. All it'd take is a little effort on your part, and she'd be with you in a heartbeat," Graham said, clearly unimpressed. "But now? You're not divorcing Clara either? What, trying to play them against each other?"

Ethan didn't respond. He didn't deny it either. Just took another sip.

Graham finally sat across from him, locking eyes. "Ethan, I know you better than anyone. When you want something, nothing gets in your way. But right now? You're all over the place."

"I'm hesitating?" Ethan suddenly spoke up.

"Between Fiona and Clara? Absolutely." Graham let out a dry chuckle. "Don't tell me you've actually developed feelings for Clara?"

"Not a chance." Ethan dismissed it without a second thought.

Fall for Clara? If it were going to happen, it would have happened long ago.

Yet. he couldn't deny that lately, she'd been occupying his thoughts far too often. Like a ghost he couldn't shake.

Graham clearly didn't buy his denial. "Fiona called me."

Meaning: He knew what had happened.

Ethan fell silent again, though his drinking slowed. He simply twirled the glass between his fingers.

The crimson liquid inside seemed particularly glaring.

Graham Anderson recalled Fiona Barrington's hesitant tone earlier. It wasn't hard to guess-she'd been complaining.

But when it came to relationship drama, Graham knew better than to get involved. All he could do was play along.

Now, seeing Ethan's reaction, a teasing grin tugged at Graham's lips.

"Ethan, care to make a bet?" His tone was laced with amusement.

Ethan glanced over.

"I bet you've developed feelings for Clara Walton," Graham stated bluntly. "If I win, that land in South River City is mine. If I lose, I'll hand over my European distribution rights. Fair?"

The stakes were high-easily worth billions.

Ethan scoffed. "Then you've already lost."

"Alright, we'll see." Graham maintained his half-smirk.

Ethan didn't bother replying. He grabbed his jacket-Lucy Hampton was already waiting downstairs.

Without another word, he left.

Graham watched him go, amusement lingering in his gaze. He finished his drink, then strolled out at his own pace.

.

Days passed in a blur.

Since their argument, Clara and Ethan hadn't seen each other.

Clara didn't have the time or energy to think about him anyway-her focus was entirely on her mother, Linda Walton.

Thankfully, Linda's condition had stabilized, and the surgery remained scheduled as planned.

That gave Clara a bit of breathing room.

"Thank you in advance for Monday's surgery, Dr. Griffith," she said politely.

Nathaniel Griffith responded with a casual "Yeah," standing with one hand tucked in his coat pocket.

"You're really going to talk to me like I'm a stranger?" He looked down at her, raising an eyebrow.

Clara bit her lip before replying, "Then. senior?"

Nathaniel chuckled, somewhat pleased with the answer.

He wasn't originally from River City-his roots were in the capital.

But his grandmother lived here, so he'd spent six months in the city as a teenager, attending the same school as Clara.

She was in her first year of middle school; he, a late transfer into the second year of high school.

Nathaniel remembered her because one day, she arrived late, climbing over the wall to avoid being caught.

He'd witnessed the whole thing, saw her clasp her hands in a mock apology before darting away.

He'd smirked silently.

After that, he began running into her more often. Somehow, they'd grown familiar.

They stayed in touch through WhatsApp for a while, until he left for medical school at Johns Hopkins. As his schedule grew busier, their messages dwindled, then stopped altogether.

And now, fate had brought them back together-with him as the lead surgeon for her mother at Aurelux.

Funny how life worked.

Without holding back, Nathaniel tapped Clara lightly on the forehead. "You really don't pick 'em well."

Clara blinked. "What?"

"Someone like Ethan? Totally wrong for you." Nathaniel's tone was casual.

Clara played along, nodding as if in agreement. "Then once I'm divorced, can you introduce me to someone better?"

"Dream on." He flicked her cheek with a chuckle.

Clara was about to respond when someone came to fetch Nathaniel. He immediately straightened up, as if nothing had just happened between them.

Clara gave a small nod as he walked away.

Just then, her phone rang.

She looked down at the caller ID, her eyes dimming slightly.

So. Fiona finally couldn't sit still and had called her first?

Clara Walton answered the call without hesitation.

Fiona Barrington's voice came through, sharp and accusatory. "Clara."

Clara responded with a light "Mm," waiting calmly for whatever Fiona had to say.

Fiona hated that about her-that unshakable composure. No matter how much she provoked her, Clara remained unfazed.

And then there was her face.

At first, everyone's eyes would be on Fiona. But eventually, they'd drift toward Clara.

"Feeling smug?" Fiona's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Using a baby to tie Ethan down?"

Clara chuckled softly. "Do you really think Ethan is the type to let me get pregnant just because I want to?"

"You-" Fiona choked, momentarily speechless.

Because it was true-Ethan wasn't that type.

He was always cautious, always in control. If he didn't want Clara pregnant, it wouldn't have happened.

Clara's words felt like a slap in Fiona's face.

"Was there anything else, Miss Barrington?" Clara's tone remained cool, clearly uninterested in prolonging the conversation.

Fiona took a sharp breath before spitting out, "Please. You're just a stand-in. A placeholder. A tool. Ethan won't keep you around for long."

She spoke over Clara, not letting her interrupt, aiming straight for the heart.

"You and your mother? Cut from the same pathetic cloth. Using pregnancy to trap men. Look at her now-locked away in a sanatorium, completely unstable. Poetic, isn't it?"

Clara's expression turned to ice.

Say whatever you wanted about her-but bring Linda Walton into it?

That crossed a line.

"Fiona." Clara used her full name, her calm voice carrying a sharp edge. "You seem to be forgetting something."

Fiona paused. "What?"

"Right now, the one who's legally Mrs. Ethan Blackwood... is me. Not you. And if I made this little recording public? I wonder how fast the nation's sweetheart image would crumble."

Just because Clara didn't always fight back didn't mean she didn't have claws.

She simply chose when to use them.

Fiona had thrown the first punch-Clara wasn't about to stay quiet.

"You-" Fiona was so angry she could barely breathe. "Fine. Just you wait."

"Anytime," Clara replied with the same calm indifference.

Fiona sneered, "So what if you're his wife now? Once that baby is born, you'll be nothing."

Clara shot back flatly, "Even if I'm nothing, I'll still be the mother of Ethan Blackwood's child. Right?"

Then she added, almost casually, "And if you actually marry Ethan one day... well, that would mean you're picking up what I didn't want. That's called second-hand goods. Understand?"

Fiona fell completely silent.

Clara glanced at her phone-the call ended with a soft "click."

She shrugged, utterly unbothered.

She put her phone away and turned to head toward her mother's room.

And then-

Ethan Blackwood appeared just a few feet in front of her, as if he'd materialized out of nowhere.

Had he heard anything?

Her heart raced slightly.

She couldn't read his expression-unsure how much he'd overheard.

But she quickly composed herself, meeting his gaze calmly as if nothing had happened.

Ethan knew the history between her and Fiona. Of course he did. One was the dignified heiress of the Barrington family; the other-the unwelcome illegitimate daughter. Naturally, there was tension.

And now, even Ethan was dragged into it. Just what she needed-more drama.

"You're back?" Clara asked casually. "Weren't you in River City the past few days?"

If he had been around, Fiona wouldn't have had time to call her like some bitter ex throwing shade.

But the moment the words left her mouth, Clara regretted them.

It sounded too much like she was checking up on him.

She kinda wanted to bite her tongue off.

Too late now. The words were out, no take-backs.

And Ethan? He stood there staring at her, not saying a word.

Clara, feeling slightly awkward, tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"I think you should probably go cheer up Miss Fiona. If she's in a good mood, she'll come running to you without you even lifting a finger," she said-her voice sweet as honey.

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "And what about you?"

Clara blinked. "What about me?"

"If Fiona and I got back together, would you bow out politely and step aside?" His gaze locked with hers.

Well... what, was she supposed to stick around and be the third wheel? No thanks.

Clara nodded earnestly. Yes, that was exactly what she'd do.

Ethan let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "In your dreams."

Clara: "???"

Wait, what?

Was he planning to keep her tangled in some twisted love triangle from hell?

She stared at him, wondering if he'd completely lost it.

"Are things not going well at work lately?" she asked tentatively, giving him a cautious look.

Seriously, how else could she explain this mood swing?

"You worried about me?" he suddenly asked, grabbing her wrist and pulling her closer.

Okay, yeah, now Clara was certain-this man had issues.

Still, standing right in front of him, she kept a straight face. "Of course I am. After all, I rely on CEO Blackwood to breathe. If something happens to you, I'm doomed too."

Ethan let out a low chuckle.

Yeah, definitely not a compliment.

He was only just noticing how two-faced Clara could be when she wanted.

His eyes drifted down to her figure, and his brows furrowed.

Clara felt goosebumps rise under his stare.

"You haven't been eating properly," he said coldly.

Caught off guard, Clara almost blurted out, "How'd you know?" but stopped herself just in time.

"Trying to starve my kid?" His tone grew sharper.

Clara: "."

Of course not. She wasn't crazy.

But between caring for Linda and her brutal morning sickness lately, she hadn't been able to keep anything down.

Things were so bad even her taste buds had given up. She didn't feel like eating at all.

"Let's go eat," Ethan said suddenly, his gaze darkening.

"I need to check on my mom first," Clara said quietly.

"Eat first," Ethan snapped-no room for negotiation.

Clara mumbled an "Okay" and reluctantly followed.

Then, Ethan reached out and took her hand in his.

The feeling. wasn't entirely bad, but it wasn't entirely comfortable either.

As he led her away, one thought circled in her mind-

Wait a second. She'd just gone hard on Fiona earlier. And Ethan? He hadn't even scolded her?

Wasn't it common knowledge that Fiona was his favorite? The kind of woman you didn't mess with unless you wanted Ethan to lose it.

So why had she gotten off scot-free?

It didn't make any sense.

But Clara was smart enough to keep quiet.

No need to push her luck.