Chapter 12

Clara Walton answered the call without hesitation. Fiona Barrington’s voice came through, sharp and accusatory. “Clara.” Clara responded with a light “Mm,” waiting calmly for whatever Fiona had to say. Fiona hated that about her—that unshakable composure. No matter how much she provoked her, Clara remained unfazed. And then there was her face. At first, everyone’s eyes would be on Fiona. But eventually, they’d drift toward Clara. “Feeling smug?” Fiona’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Using a baby to tie Ethan down?” Clara chuckled softly. “Do you really think Ethan is the type to let me get pregnant just because I want to?” “You—” Fiona choked, momentarily speechless. Because it was true—Ethan wasn’t that type. He was always cautious, always in control. If he didn’t want Clara pregnant, it wouldn’t have happened. Clara’s words felt like a slap in Fiona’s face. “Was there anything else, Miss Barrington?” Clara’s tone remained cool, clearly uninterested in prolonging the conversation. Fiona took a sharp breath before spitting out, “Please. You’re just a stand-in. A placeholder. A tool. Ethan won’t keep you around for long.” She spoke over Clara, not letting her interrupt, aiming straight for the heart. “You and your mother? Cut from the same pathetic cloth. Using pregnancy to trap men. Look at her now—locked away in a sanatorium, completely unstable. Poetic, isn’t it?” Clara’s expression turned to ice. Say whatever you wanted about her—but bring Linda Walton into it? That crossed a line. “Fiona.” Clara used her full name, her calm voice carrying a sharp edge. “You seem to be forgetting something.” Fiona paused. “What?” “Right now, the one who’s legally Mrs. Ethan Blackwood... is me. Not you. And if I made this little recording public? I wonder how fast the nation’s sweetheart image would crumble.” Just because Clara didn’t always fight back didn’t mean she didn’t have claws. She simply chose when to use them. Fiona had thrown the first punch—Clara wasn’t about to stay quiet. “You—” Fiona was so angry she could barely breathe. “Fine. Just you wait.” “Anytime,” Clara replied with the same calm indifference. Fiona sneered, “So what if you’re his wife now? Once that baby is born, you’ll be nothing.” Clara shot back flatly, “Even if I’m nothing, I’ll still be the mother of Ethan Blackwood’s child. Right?” Then she added, almost casually, “And if you actually marry Ethan one day... well, that would mean you’re picking up what I didn’t want. That’s called second-hand goods. Understand?” Fiona fell completely silent. Clara glanced at her phone—the call ended with a soft “click.” She shrugged, utterly unbothered. She put her phone away and turned to head toward her mother’s room. And then— Ethan Blackwood appeared just a few feet in front of her, as if he’d materialized out of nowhere. Had he heard anything? Her heart raced slightly. She couldn’t read his expression—unsure how much he’d overheard. But she quickly composed herself, meeting his gaze calmly as if nothing had happened. Ethan knew the history between her and Fiona. Of course he did. One was the dignified heiress of the Barrington family; the other—the unwelcome illegitimate daughter. Naturally, there was tension. And now, even Ethan was dragged into it. Just what she needed—more drama. “You’re back?” Clara asked casually. “Weren’t you in River City the past few days?” If he had been around, Fiona wouldn’t have had time to call her like some bitter ex throwing shade. But the moment the words left her mouth, Clara regretted them. It sounded too much like she was checking up on him. She kinda wanted to bite her tongue off. Too late now. The words were out, no take-backs. And Ethan? He stood there staring at her, not saying a word. Clara, feeling slightly awkward, tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I think you should probably go cheer up Miss Fiona. If she’s in a good mood, she’ll come running to you without you even lifting a finger,” she said—her voice sweet as honey. Ethan raised an eyebrow. “And what about you?” Clara blinked. “What about me?” “If Fiona and I got back together, would you bow out politely and step aside?” His gaze locked with hers. Well... what, was she supposed to stick around and be the third wheel? No thanks. Clara nodded earnestly. Yes, that was exactly what she’d do. Ethan let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “In your dreams.” Clara: “???” Wait, what? Was he planning to keep her tangled in some twisted love triangle from hell? She stared at him, wondering if he’d completely lost it. “Are things not going well at work lately?” she asked tentatively, giving him a cautious look. Seriously, how else could she explain this mood swing? “You worried about me?” he suddenly asked, grabbing her wrist and pulling her closer. Okay, yeah, now Clara was certain—this man had issues. Still, standing right in front of him, she kept a straight face. “Of course I am. After all, I rely on CEO Blackwood to breathe. If something happens to you, I’m doomed too.” Ethan let out a low chuckle. Yeah, definitely not a compliment. He was only just noticing how two-faced Clara could be when she wanted. His eyes drifted down to her figure, and his brows furrowed. Clara felt goosebumps rise under his stare. “You haven’t been eating properly,” he said coldly. Caught off guard, Clara almost blurted out, “How’d you know?” but stopped herself just in time. “Trying to starve my kid?” His tone grew sharper. Clara: “…” Of course not. She wasn’t crazy. But between caring for Linda and her brutal morning sickness lately, she hadn’t been able to keep anything down. Things were so bad even her taste buds had given up. She didn’t feel like eating at all. “Let’s go eat,” Ethan said suddenly, his gaze darkening. “I need to check on my mom first,” Clara said quietly. “Eat first,” Ethan snapped—no room for negotiation. Clara mumbled an “Okay” and reluctantly followed. Then, Ethan reached out and took her hand in his. The feeling… wasn’t entirely bad, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either. As he led her away, one thought circled in her mind— Wait a second. She’d just gone hard on Fiona earlier. And Ethan? He hadn’t even scolded her? Wasn’t it common knowledge that Fiona was his favorite? The kind of woman you didn’t mess with unless you wanted Ethan to lose it. So why had she gotten off scot-free? It didn’t make any sense. But Clara was smart enough to keep quiet. No need to push her luck.