Chapter 13

The whole situation with Fiona Barrington seemed to blow over almost instantly. Once Ethan Blackwood returned, he took full charge of everything related to Linda Walton’s care. Clara Walton’s only responsibility now was to focus on her pregnancy and nurture the future heir of the Blackwood family. She wasn’t overly worried about her mother’s surgery, either—Nathaniel Griffith himself was operating. The man was a rockstar in neurology, with a flawless record. People lined up with stacks of cash just begging him to pick up a scalpel. So yeah, Clara could relax on that front. The surgery went perfectly smoothly, and throughout the entire process, Ethan barely left her side. He was so attentive that Clara almost wondered if he was Linda’s actual son. “Trying to win you over?” Nathaniel asked casually as he stepped out of the ICU. Clara chuckled. “Highly unlikely.” No one showers you with kindness for nothing—it usually means they want something. Even if Ethan wasn’t the type to stoop low, Clara wasn’t about to let her guard down. Nathaniel simply looked at her, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Just then, Ethan turned toward them, his brows tightly furrowed. He knew exactly who Nathaniel Griffith was. And right now, the way the man was looking at Clara put him on edge—like his territory was being scoped out. Even if nothing had actually happened between them, it rubbed him the wrong way. His expression hardening, Ethan strode straight over. Nathaniel didn’t flinch, subtly leaning closer to Clara. She instinctively shook her head almost imperceptibly—not wanting things to escalate. Whatever Nathaniel had done for her, he didn’t owe her anything. And Ethan? When he turned cold, it went straight to the bone. “I’m not scared,” Nathaniel murmured, just for her to hear. “Why are you?” “Please, Nathaniel…” Clara frowned. He scoffed arrogantly. “Relax. Ethan Blackwood can’t touch me.” Clara didn’t respond, her lips pressed tightly together. Maybe not Nathaniel—but Ethan could definitely make things difficult for her. To be honest, Nathaniel hadn’t done anything particularly noticeable, but Ethan was already upon them. “Dr. Griffith. You and my wife seem… close?” His tone was cool, practically a challenge. Nathaniel, on the other hand, looked utterly unfazed. “Mr. Blackwood. I suppose you could say that—we’ve known each other for over ten years, after all.” That teasing edge in his voice? He knew exactly what buttons he was pushing. Clara: “…” Seriously? Did he have to call her “Clara” like that… Ethan let out a dry, humorless laugh. Nathaniel didn’t stick around either—he turned and walked away without giving Ethan a second glance. The look on Ethan’s face? Sour enough to curdle milk. Clara, however, found it… oddly satisfying. In all of River City, the list of people brave enough—or foolish enough—to go toe-to-toe with Ethan Blackwood was short: either already dead or not yet born. Kinda wild. Kinda fun. … With Linda’s surgery a complete success, there was no reason for Clara to stay at the hospital. She quietly followed Ethan back to the villa—the same place they’d lived after their wedding. The atmosphere in the car was icy. Clara didn’t attempt to break the silence, just stared out the window as the scenery blurred past. When they finally pulled up to the villa, just as she reached for the door, Ethan turned to look at her. “Clara,” his voice low and sharp. She blinked and turned to face him slowly. “Yes?” “You know Nathaniel?” Ethan narrowed his eyes, his long fingers suddenly pinching her chin—not roughly, but enough to demand her attention. If they were really that familiar… then he had seriously misjudged her. Because there was no way Clara wouldn’t know what kind of man Nathaniel Griffith was—his reputation spoke for itself. The Griffith family’s background alone was enough to make people tread carefully. And Nathaniel himself? Notoriously aloof and hard to approach—not a single scandal to his name. And yet, he’d called Clara so intimately, like it was nothing. That sour feeling in Ethan’s gut surged up fast, as if someone had slapped a “cheater alert” sign right on his forehead. He shot Clara a death glare. He was two seconds away from losing it. “He’s my senior,” Clara said plainly, not bothering to elaborate. “Heh…” Ethan let out a cold, sarcastic laugh. “What kind of ‘senior’ calls you so sweetly—‘Clara’?” Clara said nothing. “Clara,” Ethan’s voice turned cutting, “I’ve told you. You’re still Mrs. Blackwood. As long as that’s the case, don’t do anything that makes me regret trusting you.” Clara snorted. “Relax. I’ve got enough self-control for the both of us.” “You…” Ethan’s expression turned to ice. “Stay away from Nathaniel.” “He’s my mother’s lead surgeon,” she stated flatly. Translation: not happening. “Find another one,” Ethan said without hesitation. “Are you serious?” Clara’s voice rose. “Do you really think it’s that easy? You know better than anyone what my mother’s condition is! If there were someone else capable of handling her surgery, do you think we’d need Nathaniel?” She was fired up now. “And what, you think we’ve done something? Did we kiss? Hug? Heck, we haven’t even crossed any emotional lines!” Clara didn’t back down an inch. She looked fierce, like a lioness ready to pounce. “Mr. Blackwood, if we’re talking about staying faithful, how about you zip it and use that fancy brain of yours? Ever think of setting an example for your child?” She held nothing back. That shut Ethan up completely. He’d never seen this side of Clara before. Compared to her usual gentle demeanor, this version of her was magnetic—full of fire and life. Clara, done arguing, turned to get out of the car. But Ethan reached out and stopped her. Clara tilted her head up, glaring. “What now, Ethan? Gonna hit me?” “Go change,” he said, his tone flat, though his mood seemed to have cooled slightly. Clara blinked. “??” He was being weird again. Ethan had always been unpredictable, but now he was just downright confusing. Shouldn’t he be yelling at her right now? “We’re going out to eat,” he added. “I don’t want my son going hungry. And honestly, I lose my appetite when you smell like a hospital lobby.” With that, Ethan opened the door and stepped out calmly. Instead of walking away, he circled the car, opened her door, and helped her out as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He led her straight inside to change. And apparently, even helping her change was now his thing. Clara let out a quiet scoff. Wow. In three years of marriage, they’d only ever undressed each other—for… other reasons. This was new. Ethan helped her without blinking, as if it were completely normal. Then he began changing right in front of her, slipping into a clean suit with practiced ease. Clara had seen his body plenty of times. Yet somehow, it still hit her every time. Those broad shoulders, narrow waist, and a sculpted physique that looked like it belonged in a magazine. Built like a machine—powerful but not overdone. And the way he dressed, slow and deliberate… It was like watching a live Calvin Klein ad. She stared a second too long and suddenly felt a rush of heat at her nose. She reached up instinctively—yep. Nosebleed. Clara: “…” Ethan turned around just then: “…”