Chapter 7

"Eugene! You bastard!" Frederick snapped, ready to charge in and throw a punch, but Clara stopped him. "Frederick, just go home." "Clara!" He looked at her, furious and helpless. His fists were shaking, but as soon as he saw the pleading in her eyes, all he could do was swallow his anger. He gave Eugene a dark glare, then turned and drove off, his heart aching for her. "Clara, get in here!" Eugene grabbed her arm roughly and dragged her inside, shoving her hard onto the bed. "Ah!" Clara cried out in pain, gasping as she reached for her lower back, which had gone numb from the hit. "Eugene, that hurt!" He leaned over her, pinning her down, his eyes fixed on her pale face and the blood—stained bandage on her forehead. His lips curved into a chilling sneer. "What? Tried dying and still failed? You think acting all pitiful will make me feel sorry for you?" "You really know how to make people sick, Clara." His cruel words made her whole body tremble. She clenched her fists, the fire in her heart finally bursting out. "Enough, Eugene! How much more do you want to humiliate me?" "Yes, I love you. I admit that. But I never forced Ellie to do anything, and I sure as hell never made you be with me! If you hated me that much, you should've just said so—you could've died before marrying me for all I care!" Every word she yelled felt like it was tearing her apart, and the hot tears rolling down her cheeks hit him like scalding water—burning and bitter. Eugene froze, staring at her tear—streaked face, and for a split second, he felt something tighten in his chest. But no. He kept telling himself this was all fake. Clara was manipulative, heartless. She had pushed Ellie into the water back then—nearly killed her. How could he ever feel anything for someone like that? With cold eyes locked on hers, Eugene suddenly sneered and said mockingly, "Typical Clara. Playing the victim while hiding your claws. Don't act all innocent with me—I remember exactly what you did back then. Nice try." "Clara, let me make this clear—stay away from Frederick. I can't stand him, and you're a married woman. You better keep your distance!" After throwing those words at Clara, Eugene stormed out, slamming the door behind him. As soon as he got into his car, he called up Gavin Turner and sped off straight to the bar. The bar was buzzing, full of noise and flashing lights, but in a quiet corner, two men sat, locked in their own little world, drinking and talking. "Gavin, did you find her?" Eugene asked, his voice low and tense. Gavin looked visibly discouraged. He sighed, took a long swig of his drink, and muttered, "Not yet. But don't lose hope, okay?" Eugene set his glass down, eyes sharp as he stared at Gavin. "It's been five years. How can I not be losing it?" "Five years and Clara still hasn't made you feel anything? Honestly, we can all see it..." Gavin stopped mid—sentence when he caught the flicker of anger in Eugene's eyes and quickly corrected himself. "Forget it. Forget her. Let's just drink." As glass after glass disappeared down their throats, Eugene looked half—dazed, rambling idly to Gavin. But in his head, everything was chaos—a mess of two faces tangled up. One was the woman he once loved more than life, Ellie Greene. The other... the one he swore he hated—Clara Bennett. The night grew darker, quieter. Clara, curled up on the cold, empty bed, slept fitfully. Suddenly, the door burst open with a loud bang. She jolted awake, heart racing, but before she could even sit up, a heavy shadow loomed and pushed her down. A wave of alcohol—laced breath, mixed with body heat, hit her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. Her cheeks turned crimson in seconds, her body frozen under the firm weight above her. "Ellie..." The name slipped out in a low, broken whisper, but Clara heard it loud and clear. His hands, hot and rough, slid beneath her clothes. His lips, cool yet greedy, grazed down her neck, soaked in heat and longing. "Ellie... I miss you... I missed you so much..." The words, thick with emotion, slammed into Clara's heart like bolts of lightning, each one more unbearable than the last. Her mind went blank, all warmth drained away, leaving only a cold, hollow ache. Rigid and trembling, she shoved him hard, eyes burning. "Eugene, I'm Clara Bennett. You know that. So tell me—now that you know, are you still gonna go through with it?!"