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.

The whole situation with Fiona Barrington seemed to blow over almost instantly.

Once Ethan Blackwood returned, he took full charge of everything related to Linda Walton's care. Clara Walton's only responsibility now was to focus on her pregnancy and nurture the future heir of the Blackwood family.

She wasn't overly worried about her mother's surgery, either-Nathaniel Griffith himself was operating. The man was a rockstar in neurology, with a flawless record. People lined up with stacks of cash just begging him to pick up a scalpel. So yeah, Clara could relax on that front.

The surgery went perfectly smoothly, and throughout the entire process, Ethan barely left her side. He was so attentive that Clara almost wondered if he was Linda's actual son.

"Trying to win you over?" Nathaniel asked casually as he stepped out of the ICU.

Clara chuckled. "Highly unlikely."

No one showers you with kindness for nothing-it usually means they want something.

Even if Ethan wasn't the type to stoop low, Clara wasn't about to let her guard down.

Nathaniel simply looked at her, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

Just then, Ethan turned toward them, his brows tightly furrowed.

He knew exactly who Nathaniel Griffith was. And right now, the way the man was looking at Clara put him on edge-like his territory was being scoped out.

Even if nothing had actually happened between them, it rubbed him the wrong way.

His expression hardening, Ethan strode straight over.

Nathaniel didn't flinch, subtly leaning closer to Clara. She instinctively shook her head almost imperceptibly-not wanting things to escalate.

Whatever Nathaniel had done for her, he didn't owe her anything. And Ethan? When he turned cold, it went straight to the bone.

"I'm not scared," Nathaniel murmured, just for her to hear. "Why are you?"

"Please, Nathaniel." Clara frowned.

He scoffed arrogantly. "Relax. Ethan Blackwood can't touch me."

Clara didn't respond, her lips pressed tightly together.

Maybe not Nathaniel-but Ethan could definitely make things difficult for her.

To be honest, Nathaniel hadn't done anything particularly noticeable, but Ethan was already upon them. "Dr. Griffith. You and my wife seem. close?"

His tone was cool, practically a challenge.

Nathaniel, on the other hand, looked utterly unfazed. "Mr. Blackwood. I suppose you could say that-we've known each other for over ten years, after all."

That teasing edge in his voice? He knew exactly what buttons he was pushing.

Clara: "."

Seriously? Did he have to call her "Clara" like that.

Ethan let out a dry, humorless laugh.

Nathaniel didn't stick around either-he turned and walked away without giving Ethan a second glance.

The look on Ethan's face? Sour enough to curdle milk.

Clara, however, found it. oddly satisfying.

In all of River City, the list of people brave enough-or foolish enough-to go toe-to-toe with Ethan Blackwood was short: either already dead or not yet born.

Kinda wild. Kinda fun.

.

With Linda's surgery a complete success, there was no reason for Clara to stay at the hospital. She quietly followed Ethan back to the villa-the same place they'd lived after their wedding.

The atmosphere in the car was icy.

Clara didn't attempt to break the silence, just stared out the window as the scenery blurred past.

When they finally pulled up to the villa, just as she reached for the door, Ethan turned to look at her.

"Clara," his voice low and sharp.

She blinked and turned to face him slowly. "Yes?"

"You know Nathaniel?" Ethan narrowed his eyes, his long fingers suddenly pinching her chin-not roughly, but enough to demand her attention.

If they were really that familiar. then he had seriously misjudged her.

Because there was no way Clara wouldn't know what kind of man Nathaniel Griffith was-his reputation spoke for itself.

The Griffith family's background alone was enough to make people tread carefully. And Nathaniel himself? Notoriously aloof and hard to approach-not a single scandal to his name.

And yet, he'd called Clara so intimately, like it was nothing.

That sour feeling in Ethan's gut surged up fast, as if someone had slapped a "cheater alert" sign right on his forehead.

He shot Clara a death glare. He was two seconds away from losing it.

"He's my senior," Clara said plainly, not bothering to elaborate.

"Heh." Ethan let out a cold, sarcastic laugh. "What kind of 'senior' calls you so sweetly-'Clara'?"

Clara said nothing.

"Clara," Ethan's voice turned cutting, "I've told you. You're still Mrs. Blackwood. As long as that's the case, don't do anything that makes me regret trusting you."

Clara snorted. "Relax. I've got enough self-control for the both of us."

"You." Ethan's expression turned to ice. "Stay away from Nathaniel."

"He's my mother's lead surgeon," she stated flatly. Translation: not happening.

"Find another one," Ethan said without hesitation.

"Are you serious?" Clara's voice rose. "Do you really think it's that easy? You know better than anyone what my mother's condition is! If there were someone else capable of handling her surgery, do you think we'd need Nathaniel?"

She was fired up now. "And what, you think we've done something? Did we kiss? Hug? Heck, we haven't even crossed any emotional lines!"

Clara didn't back down an inch. She looked fierce, like a lioness ready to pounce. "Mr. Blackwood, if we're talking about staying faithful, how about you zip it and use that fancy brain of yours? Ever think of setting an example for your child?"

She held nothing back.

That shut Ethan up completely.

He'd never seen this side of Clara before. Compared to her usual gentle demeanor, this version of her was magnetic-full of fire and life.

Clara, done arguing, turned to get out of the car.

But Ethan reached out and stopped her.

Clara tilted her head up, glaring. "What now, Ethan? Gonna hit me?"

"Go change," he said, his tone flat, though his mood seemed to have cooled slightly.

Clara blinked. "??"

He was being weird again. Ethan had always been unpredictable, but now he was just downright confusing. Shouldn't he be yelling at her right now?

"We're going out to eat," he added. "I don't want my son going hungry. And honestly, I lose my appetite when you smell like a hospital lobby."

With that, Ethan opened the door and stepped out calmly.

Instead of walking away, he circled the car, opened her door, and helped her out as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He led her straight inside to change.

And apparently, even helping her change was now his thing.

Clara let out a quiet scoff. Wow. In three years of marriage, they'd only ever undressed each other-for. other reasons. This was new.

Ethan helped her without blinking, as if it were completely normal. Then he began changing right in front of her, slipping into a clean suit with practiced ease.

Clara had seen his body plenty of times.

Yet somehow, it still hit her every time.

Those broad shoulders, narrow waist, and a sculpted physique that looked like it belonged in a magazine. Built like a machine-powerful but not overdone.

And the way he dressed, slow and deliberate. It was like watching a live Calvin Klein ad.

She stared a second too long and suddenly felt a rush of heat at her nose. She reached up instinctively-yep. Nosebleed.

Clara: "."

Ethan turned around just then: "."

Heh-

Seriously? Checking me out while accusing me of straying?

Clara awkwardly grabbed a tissue, dabbing her nose as she mumbled, "It's just the hormones. Pregnancy does that."

"You sure it's the heat? Not just. excitement?" Ethan didn't bother softening his words.

Clara: "."

The intensity of his stare made her snap. She crumpled the tissue and tossed it aside.

"I'm hungry. Weren't you the one who said you can't starve your kid? So what are we waiting for? Let's go eat," she said, her tone edged with annoyance.

With that, she turned and walked off without looking back.

Ethan let out an amused breath, as if her irritation had somehow brightened his mood.

In just a few strides, he caught up to her.

Clara glanced down at their joined hands but said nothing.

Soon they were in the car. As the engine hummed to life and they pulled away from the villa, Ethan finally looked over at Clara.

"If you're that into me, you could've just said so. No need for the nosebleed," he remarked, completely deadpan.

Clara: "."

What a damn perv.

Silence settled over the car once more.

Only now, Ethan's hand was fully wrapped around hers. He twisted their fingers together, resting them casually on the armrest as they drove smoothly toward their destination.

...

Inside the car,

Clara broke the silence. "Shouldn't I at least know who's going to be there tonight? That way I won't say anything stupid and accidentally offend your guests."

Clara was naturally cautious.

Especially since anyone dining with Ethan was bound to be someone influential.

She didn't want to embarrass herself-or worse, him. It only made sense to be prepared.

Ethan shot her a sidelong glance. "People you've met."

Clara frowned. "Huh?"

Who could she possibly know?

Before she could figure it out, Ethan added, "Graham and the others."

Oh-

That shut her up real quick.

Yeah, she definitely knew them.

Fiona had always been close to Ethan, so naturally, Clara had crossed paths with Graham and that circle.

But Clara had always known her place. She was well aware that Ethan's friends weren't exactly her biggest fans.

In their eyes, Fiona had come first-Clara was just the replacement.

Early on, Graham and the others had been politely distant.

But once Fiona left the country upset and Clara stepped into the "wife" role, their attitudes shifted subtly.

Things grew colder. That quiet disapproval settled in.

She hadn't seen any of them since marrying Ethan.

Now, suddenly being dragged along to meet them again-in this situation? It felt off.

"What's wrong?" Ethan glanced over briefly.

Clara turned to him. "You're meeting Graham and the guys-why should I come along?"

Ethan didn't respond, his eyes fixed on the road.

Clara kept trying to reason with him, "You all end up smoking or drinking. What's a pregnant woman supposed to do there? It doesn't make sense. Plus, I've been tired lately. I could totally fall asleep halfway through. Wouldn't that be embarrassing?"

Ethan still didn't reply. The car continued moving smoothly forward.

Clara bit her lip, going for the final point: "And let's be real-if things get even a little awkward, you'll be stuck in the middle. That's not fair to you either, is it?"

The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became.

Finally, she said seriously, "So I really should sit this one out, right?"

"Done talking?" Ethan said lightly, his tone flat.

Clara replied casually, "Yeah, all done."

Still not looking at her, Ethan asked evenly, "And how exactly is this situation making my life harder?"

Clara blinked. "Huh?"

Did she really have to spell it out? Wasn't he supposed to be sharp?

"You were pretty committed to playing the good little Mrs. Blackwood earlier. Pulled off quite the performance. What's with the cold feet now?" He finally turned to look at her. "Clara, what are you so afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything," Clara shot back without hesitation.

Honestly, there wasn't much point in being scared.

If Ethan wasn't worried, why should she be?

She was just window dressing, a prop-nothing more.

"If you're not afraid, then let's go," Ethan said, sounding like he was closing the subject.

Fine. Let's go.

Clara didn't respond again.

The car soon pulled up outside the club.

Ethan got out first, tossed the keys to the valet, then came around to open her door.

There were moments when Ethan could be so damn gentlemanly, it almost made you melt.

But when he was being a jerk. oh, it really made you want to punch something.

Clara didn't make a fuss, stepping out calmly.

But as they walked inside, she noticed something-Ethan wasn't holding her hand anymore.

Seriously? Was he trying to avoid suspicion?

This guy really knew how to put on a show.

She didn't say anything, silently following him to the private room.

As the door cracked open, the sound of lively chatter drifted out.

Figures.

Sounded all too familiar.

Clara glanced up at Ethan instinctively.

She had a strong feeling-he'd brought her here on purpose.

Especially with Fiona in the mix.

Yet even with those thoughts swirling, Clara kept her cool.

The moment Ethan pushed the door open, everyone turned to look-including Fiona.

But Clara acted like none of them existed. She just gently tugged on Ethan's hand.

Ethan looked down. "What is it?"

She put on a soft, pitiful face-the kind she rarely used. Maybe only once, back in the elevator.

It made Ethan's tone soften.

"The air in here's kinda stuffy. I'm feeling a bit lightheaded. Can I hold your hand?" she asked, eyes wide and innocent.

Truth be told, Clara wasn't sure how he'd react.

Ethan always made sure Fiona stayed comfortable. Would he really walk in hand-in-hand with Clara?

But before she could overthink it, Ethan's hand was already wrapping around hers-steady and warm.

She blinked, and just like that, he was leading her inside.

The room quieted instantly. All eyes zeroed in on their linked hands.

Graham didn't say a word.

Even when Ethan used to show up with Fiona, he'd never been this publicly affectionate.

Doing it now? With Clara?

Well damn.

Fiona, of course, noticed. Her expression shifted through a whirlwind of emotions-it was quite a sight.

She stared, laser-focused.

And in Fiona's eyes, Clara saw it-bitterness.

But Clara just lifted her chin, meeting Fiona's gaze with pure defiance.

She hadn't signed up to be anyone's prop, and she wasn't about to act ashamed now.

If Fiona wanted to play sweet and innocent, Clara could do that in her sleep.

With a small squeeze of Ethan's hand, Clara pulled him just a little closer.