Thirty minutes later,

Clara Walton was wheeled out of the operating room. Sedated from the IV, she remained fast asleep.

Ethan Blackwood stood waiting outside. Typically sharp and impeccably dressed, he now looked slightly disordered, though his imposing, icy demeanor remained fully intact.

When the doctor noticed Ethan, he grew visibly nervous, approaching with caution.

Ethan didn't speak-he simply fixed the doctor with a piercing stare.

The doctor didn't dare hesitate. "Miss Walton is stable now, but from this point onward, any emotional stress or physical exertion could seriously endanger the pregnancy."

Ethan listened with a furrowed brow. After a moment of silence, he responded with a low, noncommittal hum.

"When will she wake up?" His tone was detached, almost cold.

"Within ten minutes or so," the doctor answered promptly.

Ethan gave a slight nod and turned toward the patient ward.

Once he was out of sight, the doctor quietly exhaled and wiped his forehead. Merely speaking with Ethan Blackwood was enough to put anyone on edge.

He was well aware of the recent rumors, but after years at Aurelux Hospital, he knew exactly what questions to ask-and, more importantly, which ones to avoid.

Taking a steadying breath, he hurried back to his office.

.

Meanwhile,

When Ethan entered the room, Clara was already awake.

Her eyes met his, and for a moment, her mind went blank. Then, like a tide, everything rushed back.

Almost instinctively, her hand drifted to her still-flat stomach.

A gut feeling told her-the baby was gone. It had to be. Ethan was with Fiona Barrington, after all. If Clara were still pregnant, Fiona would never stand for it. There would be no reconciliation.

A strange pang of guilt shot through Clara-for the child she believed she had already lost.

"Are you still in pain?" Ethan approached and asked quietly.

Clara shook her head. "Thank you. I'm fine now. You don't need to stay-I'll call someone to pick me up."

It was just a miscarriage; no long hospital stay was necessary. Clara knew the routine.

She had already taken a week off from work and planned to return once she'd rested.

But her cool, detached tone only darkened Ethan's expression. His eyes simmered with restrained intensity.

"You really don't want to have my child, do you?" he stated flatly.

Clara blinked, caught off guard. "Would it be good for either of us if I did?"

Ethan fell silent, clearly not expecting that response. Throughout their marriage, Clara had never spoken to him so directly. She had always kept her thoughts to herself.

Now, it seemed, she had grown thorns beneath her calm exterior.

Clara, meanwhile, had already steadied herself. "The baby is gone. There's no reason for you to stay. Miss Barrington is probably waiting."

At that, Ethan's gaze turned even darker.

"And what happened earlier-let's just forget it. I won't bring it up again," she said plainly, laying all her cards on the table.

But before she could finish, Ethan cut her off abruptly. "Clara, the baby is still there."

Clara froze. ".What?"

The shock hit her hard-she hadn't expected this. She had assumed that after bleeding so heavily, the pregnancy couldn't have survived.

And someone like Ethan? There was no way he would want to keep it.

She had even imagined that even if she wanted the child, Ethan would never allow it. He would likely force her to terminate the pregnancy.

After all, that baby was a threat to his world.

But now he stood there, calm yet visibly tense, telling her the baby was still alive.

"Ethan Blackwood, you." Clara dropped all pretense of politeness, her voice cold and direct.

He loomed over her, his tone firm and icy: "I want you to keep this baby."

For a moment, Clara's mind went blank.

He had to be out of his mind.

"No," she shot back without a hint of hesitation.

She refused to be entangled with him any further. A relationship involving three people was messy enough. Clara knew all too well that she had never been the one coming out on top. Adding a child into the mix would only compound the misery.

She didn't want his pity.

Now, more than ever, Clara saw things clearly.

"You don't want my child?" Ethan's eyes darkened. His long fingers gripped her jaw, applying gradual pressure.

The pain made her wince, but her resolve didn't waver: "Of course not. I'd have to be insane to want to carry your child. I won't keep it."

Ethan didn't respond immediately. He simply stared at her, his expression grim.

Just as she struggled against his hold, he said, his voice low and cutting, "Clara, if I say you're keeping this baby, you're keeping it."

"I said no. We're divorced. This is my body and my choice. You can't force me," Clara fired back, holding nothing back.

Ethan let out a cold laugh. "Clara, if I give the word, not a single doctor in River City will dare to touch you."

"You." Clara was so angry her face paled.

Right then, Ethan's phone buzzed again. Fiona Barrington's name flashed across the screen. This time, he didn't ignore it.

He answered. "Yes."

"Ethan, I really don't feel well. He hasn't come back yet. Can you please come stay with me?" Fiona's voice was sweet, fragile, and pleading.

Then, before Ethan could respond, a loud thud came from the other end of the line-and Fiona's voice abruptly cut off.

Ethan's expression shifted instantly.

Without another glance at Clara, he turned and walked out without another word.

She didn't say anything either. She simply stared in the direction he had left, then let out a short, bitter laugh. Her expression slowly hardened into one of pure contempt.

Why on earth should she carry Ethan Blackwood's child?

What a joke.

Less than an hour after Ethan left the hospital, Clara quietly discharged herself and walked out without looking back.

.

The next day, Clara showed up at the hospital as scheduled. Despite the previous day's chaos, she hadn't canceled her abortion appointment.

But as she stood facing the doctor, a sense of unease settled over her.

"Miss Walton, I'm very sorry, but I can't perform this procedure for you. You'll need to find another doctor," the doctor said nervously.

Clara was silent for a moment. She didn't even bother asking why.

She already knew who was behind it.

She had no doubt about Ethan Blackwood's influence. The Blackwood family stood at the very top of River City's power structure. If he said no, no doctor would dare defy him-especially not for someone like her.

And if anyone thought Clara wasn't furious?

That would be a lie.

If River City was out of the question, she could try in another city.

There was no way Ethan Blackwood had his reach in every hospital, right?

Just as that thought crossed Clara Walton's mind, her phone buzzed.

She glanced down-a call from the rehabilitation center.

Immediately, she answered, her heart tightening. Had something happened to her mother?

"Miss Walton," came Dr. Chin's voice over the line.

"Dr. Chin, is everything alright with my mom?" Clara's nerves pulled taut instantly.

Linda Walton had been at Aurelux for some time now; Clara visited her every week without fail.

Her mother's condition fluctuated, but most of the time she remained lucid-stable, overall.

Dr. Chin being her primary physician, his call could only mean one thing to Clara: something was wrong.

"They want your mother discharged immediately," Dr. Chin sighed, sounding helpless. "Please come by to complete the paperwork."

Clara froze.

She hadn't seen this coming.

Aurelux wasn't just any rehab center-it was the finest in River City.

And Linda still had that brain tumor; her surgery was scheduled for the following week.

If they left Aurelux now. forget River City-no doctor in the country would take her case on such short notice.

Clara knew exactly what that meant.

"Why?" she asked, forcing herself to stay calm.

A pause. Then Dr. Chin said, "I don't have the full picture. This came from above."

She took a deep breath. "Understood. I'll be there soon."

Dr. Chin hung up without another word.

Clutching her phone, Clara stood frozen. The pressure felt suffocating-as though she were being driven to the brink.

Only one man in River City wielded that kind of power-the kind that could sever every one of her options without a trace.

This "order from above" could only mean Ethan Blackwood.

Clara exhaled sharply and turned quickly.

But she didn't head to Aurelux as she'd said.

Instead, she hailed a cab straight to the Blackwood Group.

She needed to see him.

Ethan was clearly forcing her hand, backing her into a corner until she surrendered willingly.

Clara let out a bitter laugh, her head bowed. Had she really believed she had any say in this?

How naïve.

He had found her weakest point and pressed it-leaving her no escape but to submit.

How utterly pathetic.

.

Thirty minutes later, the cab pulled up in front of the Blackwood Group.

Clara saw Lucy Hampton waiting at the entrance, posture straight, expression unreadable.

"Ma'am, let me take you upstairs," Lucy said coolly.

Clara gave a slight nod. Lucy escorted her to Ethan's office, then quietly stepped out.

What Clara hadn't expected was to wait three full hours before he appeared.

No food, not a sip of water. She sat there the entire time, holding herself together.

It wasn't until 4 p.m. that the door finally opened.

Ethan's tall figure stood before her.

He glanced at her and said bluntly, "Weren't you acting tough earlier? What now-finally came crawling back?"

Clara didn't respond.

With the authority Ethan carried, merely sharing the same space with him felt suffocating.

She had never truly stood a chance against him.

She took a deep breath. "I'll keep the baby. But my mother stays at the hospital-she can't handle the stress. Her surgery will proceed next week as planned."

Every word Clara spoke was calm, yet firm.

Ethan stood with his hands in his pockets, his gaze sharp as a blade.

But Clara didn't flinch under his stare.

Suddenly, his hand shot out and gripped her chin. His fingers were long and strong-the pressure hurt.

"What's wrong? Does having my child make you feel pathetic?" Ethan said, easily reading the reluctance on her face.

"Yes, it does," Clara replied quietly, her eyes steady.

His expression darkened.

"Being used as a tool. how could that not feel pathetic? A marriage built on nothing, with no love in it, and just when I thought something might change, it ends like this? Do you really think I wouldn't feel used?" Her voice was emotionless, yet every word struck hard.

Ethan's face tightened into something unreadable.

But Clara didn't give him a chance to respond. "Fiona's back, parading her fiancé around, and now you're pulling this cheap stunt to get to her? Come on, Ethan-don't tell me that doesn't hurt."

For three years, Clara had been the invisible wife, nearly erased from everyone's sight.

But now, she'd grown claws-always aiming where it cut deepest.

Rather than grow angry, Ethan actually chuckled. "Why would I feel hurt?"

That indifferent tone made the air around them turn cold.

She couldn't decipher what he was truly thinking.

"Fiona isn't in good health-she can't risk a pregnancy. But the Blackwoods still need an heir. A legitimate one," he stated, as if reading from a business proposal.

Clara's face shifted slightly.

"She likes to make scenes-fine. I'll indulge her. She'll come back eventually. And you? Once the baby is born, this farce of a marriage ends. So tell me, what do I have to regret?"

His voice was cold, precise, like steel. "She's still the one I'll marry, and I can give Grandfather a clean report. What would I have to feel bad about?"

Each word stabbed into Clara, mocking every moment she had spent by his side.

And then, for no reason at all, she gave a faint, almost amused smile.

Ethan frowned.

Clara calmly removed his hand from her face and looked up at him-her gaze clear, her voice even. "Ethan. all these years, not even once? You never felt anything for me?"

He looked down at her as though offering pity.

And he understood what she meant. Not just the three years of marriage-everything before that.

For as long as Fiona had been in his life, Clara had been there too. Perhaps even longer.

When Fiona said she was going abroad, Ethan hadn't stopped her.

And when she left, guess who remained by his side?

Clara.

They had known each other for at least a decade.

Ten years-enough time to form a bond with a dog, let alone a person.

But Ethan's answer was icy. "Not once."

Clara stood perfectly still, silent.

Ethan looked down at her. "What, Clara? Hoping I'll magically fall in love with you one day?"

Before she could reply, he delivered the final blow-sharp, cruel, and straight through the heart.

No mercy. Just pain.

"Never forget-you were only ever Fiona's stand-in." Ethan laid it out coldly.

He expected to see that familiar flicker of pain cross Clara's face.

But instead, she simply smirked. "How convenient, Mr. Blackwood."

Even her tone was icy, utterly detached.

Ethan narrowed his eyes, a glint of danger flashing deep within his gaze.

"Heh." Clara's laugh was dry, indifferent. "I don't love you either, Ethan."

That wiped the smugness from his expression in an instant.

"You know my background-I'm the Barringtons' illegitimate daughter. I've always lived in the shadows. Maybe I'm twisted deep down. I want everything Fiona has." Clara's voice trailed off, as though she were genuinely reflecting.

Then she paused, the corners of her lips curling. "Maybe what I really enjoy is taking what's hers and watching her break. That gets to you, doesn't it? She suffers, you ache-and I get pleasure from both of you squirming. I can't help it; I really can't stand her."

She took another step forward. "You included, Ethan Blackwood."

She knew exactly what could happen if she kept going-that he might truly lose control and end her.

But she didn't back down.

Why should she be the only one suffering? If this was how it had to be, she'd drag him into the fire with her.

She held Ethan's stormy gaze, refusing to yield.

If you have the guts, Ethan, do it. End it now.

"Clara." Ethan's fists were clenched so tightly they trembled.

But Clara wasn't finished. "Oh, and I'm carrying your child. You couldn't let Fiona risk her health for a baby, could you? But now, this child will always be a thorn in her side-solid proof you couldn't keep your hands to yourself."

She let out a lazy, mocking laugh.

The sweet, harmless girl he once thought he knew was now all sharp edges-ready to draw blood at any moment.

Ethan let out a cold scoff.

In all of River City, no one had ever dared speak to him like that.

Except Clara.

"Clara." His voice was a razor-sharp warning.

"Yes?" she replied, utterly unfazed.

"Say that again," Ethan gritted out, fury lacing every word.

It wasn't a request-it was an order.

But Clara actually began to repeat herself.

That was the last straw.

Ethan's hand shot out and closed around her throat.

His jaw was clenched so hard it seemed ready to splinter. Every word was harsh, low: "Shut up."

And Clara did-because she could no longer breathe.

Her face flushed red under his grip, the pressure on her neck unbearable.

For a moment, she truly believed he might kill her.

But seeing Ethan lose control like that, something deep within her felt. satisfied.

Ethan's cold, furious eyes remained locked on hers. "Clara, do you really think I won't kill you?"

"I do," Clara rasped, her voice like shattered glass. Then, without hesitation, she added, "But if you do, your son dies with me."

That stopped him.

Ethan jerked his hand back as if she'd burned him, sending Clara stumbling backward, coughing violently.

It took her a moment to catch her breath, to claw her way back from the edge of darkness.

"Get out," Ethan spat, rage still boiling in his words.

Clara didn't leave immediately. "As soon as you cancel the order, I'll go. I won't overstay a second longer."

Ethan made the call to the rehab center right in front of her.

Linda Walton would not be transferred. Her surgery would proceed as scheduled the following week.

Only after hearing that did Clara allow herself to relax.

She had won-this round, at least.

But what about the next?

Clara had never felt so drained, as though she were carrying the weight of mountains on her back.

Yet she knew she couldn't give up. For her mother's sake, no matter how difficult, she had to keep going.

"Thank you, Mr. Blackwood." The earlier fire in her voice had faded.

She still held her dignity, but her tone was cold-none of her past admiration for Ethan remained.

To her, this was nothing more than a transaction.

That version of Clara made something in Ethan's eyes turn colder as well.

A storm of emotions raged inside him.

He didn't even know what he wanted anymore. The woman before him felt like a complete stranger.

When he first met Clara, she had always watched him cautiously, as though walking on eggshells.

Even though her feelings for him showed in every glance, it was always tinged with nervous energy.

Ethan couldn't say when he had started to care about her.

Maybe it was his complicated ties with Fiona that kept him silent. He had buried it deep.

Then Fiona, in a fit of anger, announced she was leaving the country-abandoning him in River City.

And out of nowhere, the girl who had always lingered in the shadows began to show courage.

She still called him "Ethan," just as before, but something had shifted. She wasn't hiding anymore.

After another blowout with Fiona, Ethan married Clara-if only to provoke Fiona.

But throughout their three-year marriage, Clara stayed close to him, always treading carefully.

Her love was painfully obvious. She called him "hubby" so softly, so gently, always uncertain.

Even in intimacy, where he tested her limits, she still yielded.

But now, somehow, she could shut off those feelings like flipping a switch-as though none of it had ever happened.

"If there's nothing else, I'll go to the rehab center to see my mother," Clara said, not waiting for Ethan's response.

She walked past him, calm and poised.

But before she could get far, a strong hand pulled her back, and Ethan spun her around to face him.

"Ethan Blackwood, let me go!" Clara frowned, struggling slightly.

"What did you just call me?" His voice grew lower, colder.

Clara stilled, caught off guard.

Her lips parted slightly.

Ethan stared her down. "Clara, you are my wife. Don't address me like a stranger-I don't like it."

It wasn't that he couldn't bear to hear it; he simply refused to.

Clara knew when to yield. "Alright... hubby. You're hurting me," she said, almost too calmly.

But her tone was flat, perfunctory.

Ethan could tell. Of course he could.

His eyes never left hers.

"Be at the villa tonight," his tone still icy.

"I can't," Clara frowned, thinking aloud. "Not this whole week."

"You-" Ethan's expression darkened.

"My mother's surgery is on Monday. I need to be with her at the rehab center," Clara stated clearly. "After what happened today, her emotional state is fragile. I can't risk anything happening to her."

She looked at him with sharp clarity. "If anything happens to her, this deal is off."

She said it plainly, but the threat behind her words was unmistakable.