Chapter 3

Lucas stood behind Claire, his expression icy cold. Claire noticed the stares around them and glanced back over her shoulder. So, he was here the whole time. She quickly looked away again, eyes drifting to the short-haired girl on the couch. When she first came over, that girl had been lounging with one leg over the other, twirling her hair with a smug little smirk. Now though, the smirk was gone, replaced by a scowl so sharp she looked like she was about to lunge. Yeah, this wasn’t their first little hangout—judging by how casual everyone was, they were already comfortable being out in the open together. Lucas started walking over. The group, who’d been frozen just a second ago, snapped out of it instantly. “Claire, we’re so sorry, we were totally talking nonsense!” “Yeah, Claire, there’s nothing going on between Lucas and Miss Morgan!” “Don’t take it the wrong way, please—seriously!” … Lucas grabbed Claire by the wrist, clearly trying to drag her out. Claire turned around and, without hesitation, threw her drink straight into his face. The whole room went dead silent. Everyone collectively got goosebumps—did she really just do that? Next second, she gave him a calm, almost sweet smile and said softly, “Go on, have fun with your little sweetheart. I’ll leave you to it.” Then she looked down and started prying his fingers off. Lucas’s face darkened, and without another word, he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The whole room: “…” Out in the hallway, Claire kicked and squirmed on Lucas’s back. Right then, the elevator dinged. He stepped inside and turned around. Claire, upside down, caught a glimpse of sleek black leather shoes, sharp tailored pants hugging long legs, and a pale, slender hand resting at his side—every finger looked like it had been carved out of marble. The atmosphere was tense and awkward. As they stepped out of the elevator, Claire couldn’t help but lift her head, only to meet a pair of deep-set eyes with a sharp glint in them. Claire: “…” She instantly covered her face and buried her head. Outside the lounge. Lucas tossed Claire into the backseat of the car before hopping in himself. Claire felt dizzy and sick. After being upside down for that long and then thrown into a car, her head was spinning. Lucas grabbed some wet wipes from the glove box and started wiping his face. Claire’s sharp eye caught what looked suspiciously like a condom tucked behind the tissue box. Then Lucas’s voice came, sharp and biting: “So what, you came here to catch me cheating?” She opened the door to get out. The car felt gross. “...Claire!” Lucas snapped, yanking her back hard. “Where are you even trying to go now? Can you stop already?!” Claire’s breathing got a bit erratic. She pressed her fingers against her palm to steady herself. “I want to go home.” Lucas waved down Ethan, who was standing near the entrance, and told him to drive. The ride was completely silent. Claire kept as much distance between them as possible, face pale, like she was about to puke. As soon as they pulled into the driveway, she got out immediately. She went into the kitchen and chugged a glass of ice water in one go. Only then did she start to feel a little less like she was going to die. When she came out, Lucas was sitting in the living room. Claire walked over and took a seat. Awkward silence again. Eventually, Lucas was the first to speak. "I was out discussing a project. You barging into the club and causing a scene—do you even realize how ridiculous you looked? Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was for me? Honestly, you looked like a complete mess, like some angry shrew." "Anything else?" Claire said flatly. "If you still want this relationship to last, you need to cut out these pointless suspicions. I don’t have the patience to deal with your mood swings." "Okay. Got more?" "...” Lucas frowned. “Claire, do you know how annoying you’re being right now?" Claire stood up, a faint smile tugging at her lips. You won't feel annoyed for much longer. She turned and headed upstairs. Lucas sat there, more irritated thanks to that smile. After staying downstairs a bit longer, he finally went up to their room and noticed she was already in bed. He showered and lay down beside her. In the dark, Claire turned her back toward him, subtly edging away, clearly avoiding any contact. Lucas reached over and held her, yanking her back into his arms a bit forcefully, his movements laced with frustration. He was tall and strong—once he held her tight, she couldn’t move at all. She lay stiff the whole night. The next morning, Claire made breakfast only for herself. Lucas came down the stairs just in time to see her quietly eating toast alone. She looked like she was about to head out, but then swerved toward the dining area. He leaned in close, using a softer tone like he was coaxing a child. “Let’s spend the weekend on the water, just us two.” Still drinking her milk, Claire just gave a noncommittal hum. Unsurprisingly, the day before the weekend, he bailed again—said he had to fly to Hong Kong. Claire didn’t even flinch. No surprise there. He probably hadn’t even noticed how long it had been since they shared a meal or spent proper time together. He warned her not to mention divorce, but the truth was, she'd already become invisible to him. If she vanished tomorrow, he might not even bat an eye. That weekend, she packed up her share of books from the shelf and brought them over to her new place. While she was shelving the books, her phone—hardly ever used for calls with her mother-in-law—buzzed with a call from Helen Wilson. Claire picked up, her tone polite. “Hello, Mrs. Bennett.” Helen answered haughtily, “Come home. About what we talked about earlier—let’s put it in writing.” “Is that really necessary?” “I said it is.” “Alright, I’ll stop by in the afternoon.” “Make it noon.” “Okay.” Claire figured she didn’t have anything scheduled anyway, so she agreed. Meanwhile, upstairs, Helen stood by the window, visibly pleased as she looked out into the garden where Lucas was walking with Fiona. She wanted Claire to see for herself what a "perfect match" really looked like—to know who was truly meant for her son.