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.

Ethan Blackwood frowned. "Not feeling well?"

Clara Walton shook her head. "Nope."

"Then what's wrong?" His voice held a tinge of concern, though he didn't seem to notice it himself.

Clara let out a soft "oh" before replying, "I just think Miss Barrington didn't really want to see me. Maybe. I shouldn't have come."

Her tone was so innocently pitiful it almost felt performative.

Even Graham Anderson shot her a sideways glance.

Fiona Barrington's face darkened further.

Ethan, however, didn't react as he turned to look at Clara.

Trying to keep her composure, Fiona forced a polite smile. "Of course not. Why wouldn't I welcome you? You are my sister, after all. my father's illegitimate daughter."

She was clearly trying to provoke Clara.

But all Clara did was smile.

"Yeah, and sis, you came back just to introduce your fiancé to the rest of us?" she said casually, brows arched, looking notably cheerful.

Fiona hadn't managed to get under Clara's skin-instead, she only angered herself.

The tension was palpable to everyone in the room.

Ethan remained silent. With him quiet, no one else dared speak-not even Graham.

Fiona was barely holding it together.

Back in the day, Ethan would never have brought Clara to an event like this-because Clara wasn't "worthy."

But now? He showed up hand in hand with her.

That. spoke volumes.

Was he trying to embarrass Fiona?

Even when Clara was subtly throwing shade, Ethan didn't say a word.

That silence practically threw Fiona under the bus.

Meanwhile, Clara calmly met Fiona's furious glare, then tilted her head to look up at Ethan.

She gently slipped her hand out of his.

Ethan noticed the empty space in his palm and frowned slightly.

Then came Clara's soft voice: "Honey, I think Miss Barrington genuinely doesn't want me around. Why don't you stay and enjoy the night? I'll have the driver take me home. We can do this another time."

A graceful exit.

It made Fiona look like the one throwing a tantrum.

Fiona finally snapped. "Stop pretending, Clara."

Clara blinked innocently. "Did I say anything untrue?"

"You-" Fiona had no comeback.

Clara smiled again, calm as ever. "Or. are you just in a great mood seeing me? Especially since I'm Mrs. Blackwood now?"

It was classic sugar-coated sarcasm-hitting all the right nerves.

Fiona's expression shifted completely this time. She turned to Ethan. "Ethan, you're really just going to let Clara bully me like this?"

That caught Clara's attention too.

Ethan replied coolly, "Did she say anything wrong?"

"Ethan, you-" Fiona's voice trembled with emotion.

The room fell into an awkward silence.

Graham finally couldn't take it anymore. "Alright, that's enough. Ethan, you're way out of line. You knew Fiona was coming back, and you still brought Clara? What, wanted to rub it in? You know what Fiona's been through."

Before he could finish, Fiona had already stormed off.

Ethan stayed rooted to the spot.

Graham shot him a disapproving look, then quickly went after Fiona.

Everyone else in the room found some excuse to leave-nobody wanted to get caught in the aftermath.

Except Clara, who stayed as nonchalant as ever, calmly snacking on fruit.

"Aren't you going after her? She looked really upset." Clara took a bite of watermelon. "If you go now, play the nice guy and say something sweet, she might just break down crying and run back to you."

She even thoughtfully planned out her husband's potential reconciliation with his ex. How considerate.

But Ethan just stood there, totally unfazed, hands in his pockets, towering over Clara as she casually took a seat.

"You did that on purpose," his tone left no room for doubt.

Well-duh. Even a fool could see that.

Clara didn't bother defending herself. She simply stabbed another chunk of melon, ready to pop it in her mouth when Ethan stopped her mid-bite.

Clara frowned. "Ethan, seriously?"

"It's not good for you. Too cold for someone pregnant," he said, voice low and steady.

Clara wanted to snap back with a 'not your problem,' but the look he gave her was enough to shut her up.

Still, the moment he looked away, she seized the chance and bit the melon straight off her fork.

Ethan: "."

Clara looked way too smug about it.

She'd taken such a big bite that juice dripped down the side of her mouth.

Ethan stared-until he let out a quiet, frustrated laugh.

Next thing she knew, he was tipping her chin up, eyes locked on hers. "Clara, seriously, are you trying to get on my nerves?"

"It's good watermelon," she said, completely ignoring the question.

Her lips moved slowly, deliberately.

The way she spoke almost felt like a tease.

Ethan's gaze darkened, and before either of them knew it, he dipped his head and kissed her.

Clara froze for a second.

Yep, they were kissing.

And with that sweet watermelon flavor lingering between them, the whole thing felt oddly. sensual?

"Close your eyes. Who kisses with their eyes wide open like that?" Ethan mumbled against her lips.

Alright, alright. Eyes closed.

Just like that, the mood shifted, and things easily slipped into something more heated. Neither of them noticed the door quietly creaking open behind them.

Graham had managed to talk Fiona into coming back.

But clearly, neither of them expected to walk in on this scene.

Fiona's face turned ghostly pale.

When Ethan finally noticed, Clara did too. He pulled away, and Clara just shrugged, suddenly way too calm.

While Ethan was still distracted, Clara sneakily reached for another piece of melon.

Ethan smacked her hand away, eyeing her like this wasn't just about watermelon-it was a whole warning: don't push it.

Clara only smiled.

Oh? Looks like Mr. Blackwood actually cares.

"I want to go home," Fiona suddenly said, turning to Graham.

Graham furrowed his brow, clearly reading the room. "Sure. I'll take you."

"Thanks." Fiona nodded.

Ethan stayed silent the whole time.

Soon, the two walked out, leaving him right where he stood.

"So. are we just gonna hang around here eating watermelon now?" Clara asked innocently.

"Home. Now," Ethan said flatly.

Fair enough. The show's over anyway-what were they supposed to stick around for?

Clara shrugged, got up cool as ever, and followed Ethan out. He didn't bother holding her hand this time.

Not that Clara cared.

On the way out, she suddenly needed the bathroom-guess the watermelon got to her.

She turned back mid-step.

Ethan didn't say anything.

After she finished and stepped out of the restroom, she unexpectedly ran into Fiona at the stairs.

Well, isn't that a coincidence.

Clara could only think-just great. Could this night get any messier?