POV: Clara Bennett
My hands shake as I zip the second suitcase, and the small bathroom trash can holds the plastic stick that changes everything, because I am carrying Damian's child while he plans to throw me out for Vivian. For a second, I hold my breath and touch my stomach, and I actually think about waking him up to tell him the news, but then his cold laughter echoes in my head. He said I was just a way to secure the merger, so I drop my hand and pull my phone from my pocket to call my friend Marcus, who owes me a favor from architecture school.
"Clara?" Marcus answers on the third ring, his voice raspy with sleep. "Do you know what time it is?"
"Marcus, I need your help," I whisper, walking quietly into the dark hallway so I do not wake Damian. "I need you to book a private flight out of the city for me right now, and I need a car waiting outside the building in twenty minutes."
"A flight?" Marcus asks, waking up fully as he hears the panic in my voice. "Clara, what happened? Are you and Damian fighting again?"
"Just do it, Marcus," I say, my voice breaking slightly before I swallow the lump in my throat. "Do not ask questions, just send the car, and I will wire the money to your account before the plane takes off."
"Alright, alright, I am calling a contact now," Marcus says. "Pack light, and meet me at the hangar by three in the morning."
I hang up the phone and walk back into the bedroom, where Damian is sleeping soundly on the side of the bed, completely unaware that his life is about to change. I pull my diamond wedding ring off my finger, and I set it right in the center of the nightstand next to his watch, because I will not keep a single thing that belongs to him. I send a quick email to my uncle at the Bennett family company to resign from my advisory board position, and I transfer my personal savings into a separate account that Damian cannot touch.
When I walk out of the penthouse for the last time, the elevator ride feels too long, and I step out into the lobby where the night guard nods at me politely.
"Going out so late, Mrs. Sterling?" the guard asks, looking up from his desk.
"Just a family emergency, Tom," I say, offering a tired smile before walking out the glass doors into the cool night air.
Marcus's car is waiting at the curb with the engine running, and I slide into the back seat, telling the driver to take us straight to the airfield. By the time the sun starts to peek over the horizon, the plane is already high in the sky, and I look out the window at New York shrinking below me. I keep one hand resting protectively over my stomach, and I tell myself that I made the right choice, because my child will never grow up watching a mother beg for attention from a man who does not care.
Three months pass in a blur of morning sickness and quiet apartments in a city four hours away, and I spend my days reviewing blueprints on my laptop while building a new architectural firm from scratch. My stomach is starting to show a small bump under my oversized shirts, and my phone buzzes constantly with unknown numbers that I simply ignore because I know they are from Damian. Today is my monthly checkup, and I sit on the paper-covered table in the clinic while the nurse applies cold gel to my stomach.
"Everything looks good so far, Clara," Dr. Evans says, moving the small monitor around while the room fills with a fast, rhythmic thumping sound.
"Is the baby healthy?" I ask, holding my breath as I stare at the grainy black and white screen.
"The baby is very healthy," Dr. Evans smiles, pointing at the monitor. "Look right here, you have got a strong heartbeat, and everything is developing right on schedule."
I look at the screen, and for the first time since I walked out of Damian's penthouse, a genuine smile spreads across my face, because this little life is mine and no one can take it away from me.
POV: Damian Sterling
Three years have passed since Clara left, and I am still sitting in the same office, staring at the empty space on my nightstand where her ring used to sit. When I first woke up and found her gone, I told my mother that she would be back in three days because she had nowhere else to go, but days turned into months, and months turned into three full years of absolute silence. My lawyers prepared the divorce papers back then, but they could never locate her to serve the documents, so our marriage stayed legally intact, and every single day I woke up feeling more annoyed by her absence than I wanted to admit to anyone.
"Damian, you need to sign these reports for the quarterly board review," my assistant Marcus says, stepping into my office and placing a stack of files on my table.
"Did the investigators find anything new on Clara's location?" I ask, not even bothering to open the file in front of me.
"No, sir," Marcus says, shaking his head slowly. "The private investigators searched every city in the country, but her bank accounts remained untouched, and no one from her family has seen her or talked to her since that night."
"She has to be somewhere, Marcus," I say, leaning back in my chair and rubbing my temples. "A woman does not just disappear off the face of the earth without leaving a trace."
"Well, she did," Marcus says, looking at me cautiously. "And if I may speak freely, sir, Miss Vivian is waiting outside in the lobby again, and she wants to know if you are still taking her to dinner tonight."
"Tell Vivian to go home," I say, turning my head toward the window. "Tell her I am too busy with work tonight, and tell her to stop coming to the office without an appointment."
"Sir, you broke off the engagement two years ago, but she keeps showing up," Marcus says, lingering near the door. "Are you ever going to tell her the truth about why you ended things with her?"
"The truth is that I am tired of talking to her," I say, keeping my voice flat. "Vivian spent two years complaining about wedding dates and interior design while my company was undergoing restructuring, so just tell her to leave."
The truth was that having Vivian around only made me miss Clara more, because Vivian complained about everything while Clara used to sit quietly and manage my home without asking for anything in return. I thought I loved Vivian for years, but when Clara walked away, I saw how loud and demanding Vivian actually was, so I ended things with her and focused entirely on growing Sterling Holdings into an unstoppable power.
Except Sterling Holdings is not unstoppable anymore, because over the past six months, a mysterious investment company named Apex Global has been quietly buying up shares of our partner companies, cutting off our supply lines, and taking over major markets across the country. Every time I try to bid on a new commercial property or secure an international tech contract, Apex Global steps in at the last minute with a higher offer, and my board members are starting to panic because we cannot trace who owns the firm.
"Damian!" my head of operations, Arthur, shouts, bursting through my office door without knocking, his face completely red and his tie loosened.
"What is going on, Arthur?" I ask, standing up from my chair immediately. "Why are you yelling in my office?"
"We just got the notification from the stock exchange," Arthur says, holding up a piece of paper with shaking hands. "Apex Global just bought out two of our biggest institutional shareholders in a private trade ten minutes ago."
"How much did they get?" I demand, rounding my table and snatching the sheet from his hands.
"Forty percent, Damian," Arthur says, his voice cracking as he drops into a chair. "They own forty percent of Sterling Holdings now, which means they hold equal voting rights to you, and they just called an emergency board meeting downstairs in the main conference room."
"Forty percent?" I yell, throwing the paper onto the table while my heart begins to beat fast in my chest. "How did we let an outside company buy forty percent of my family's legacy without us knowing?"
"They bought through holding companies and offshore accounts," Arthur explains, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "The new major shareholder is downstairs right now with their legal team, and the rest of the board is already waiting for you."
"Get the legal team," I say, walking toward the door with fast steps. "I want to see who thinks they can walk into my building and take over my company."
I walk down the hallway with Arthur and Marcus behind me, my fists clenched at my sides, and every employee gets out of my way as I march toward the main conference room. I reach the heavy wooden doors, push them open with both hands, and storm into the room ready to fire whoever sold their shares, but the room is completely silent. The board members are sitting in their chairs with wide eyes, and at the head of the table sits a woman wearing a black business suit, quietly reading through a contract while her lawyers stand behind her.
She has her hair styled short and elegant, her posture is completely straight, and she does not even look up when I slam the door shut behind me, but as I walk closer to the table, my steps begin to slow down because something about her profile looks strangely familiar.
"Who gave you permission to call a board meeting in my building?" I demand, leaning my hands on the edge of the table.
The woman slowly closes her folder, sets her pen down on the table, and turns her head to look directly into my eyes, and my lungs completely freeze because the soft, quiet woman who used to fold my laundry and wait for me to come home is sitting in my executive chair.
"I do not need your permission, Damian," Clara says, her voice smooth and completely steady as a cold smile spreads across her lips. "I own forty percent of this room now."
"Clara?" I whisper, my hands shaking on the table as I stare at her, unable to move or think clearly. "Where have you been for three years? What is the meaning of this?"
"I am Clara Bennett Sterling," she says, leaning back in the chair and looking at me like I am just another business opponent. "Your wife, and your newest business rival.”
