In Baybridge’s elite circle,there was one unwritten rule everyone knew:
Better to offend the“King of Hell,”Adrian Cole,than to cross his wife,Clara Winter.
But in the third year of their marriage,Adrian fell for a reckless young woman.
Clara only found out when their intimate videos had already flooded the internet.
Clips of Adrian fighting for Vanessa,holding an umbrella over her in a storm,even bending down to light her cigarette,spread like wildfire.
The trending hashtag—#TheColeHeirBrawlsForLove—refused to fall from the top.
Clara could no longer contain herself.She stormed straight to Adrian’s top-floor office.
She slammed her phone down onto his desk,the screen shattering,frozen on a photo of him with Vanessa on his motorcycle,his arm wrapped tightly around her.
“Adrian,”Clara’s voice was hoarse,her tears spilling uncontrollably,shattering her once-cool image.
“Tell me—what is this?Do you even have any shame left?”
Adrian only glanced at the phone.Loosening his tie with practiced indifference,his tone was flat:
“Not everything you see online is true.”
“Not true?”Clara’s voice broke into near hysteria.
“What isn’t true?That you fought for her?That you spent your nights with her?That you lied to me,treating me like a fool—that’s true enough!”
Finally,Adrian raised his eyes to her.There was no ripple of emotion in them,only a trace of pity.
“Vanessa…she looks fearless,but deep down she’s fragile.She has no sense of security.”
He turned away,his gaze stripped of all warmth,leaving only cold detachment.
“Clara,life with her feels alive.With her,I feel like I’m living again.She doesn’t demand a title,only stability.I give her security.Tell me—what’s so wrong about that?”
Clara staggered back as if all the strength had been drained from her body.She stared at him,trembling,her disbelief hollowing her out.
How could he…
How could he use such casual words to deliver such cruelty?
She had walked with him through years of hardship—yet she was defeated by one sentence from a girl who claimed she had“no sense of security.”
Clara clutched the doorframe,her entire body frozen with cold.
Outside the office tower,she dialed her lawyer.
“That divorce agreement…it can take effect now.”
Perhaps Adrian had forgotten.To marry her,he had once signed a contract:if he ever betrayed her,he would walk away with nothing.He had signed it himself to reassure her.
…
On the other end,Lawyer Bennett was stunned.
An old friend of the Winter family,he had witnessed how Adrian had fought against all odds—nearly breaking himself apart—to marry Clara.He had even drafted that extraordinary“promise agreement”himself.
“Miss Winter,”his voice was grave,heavy with hesitation.
“Have you truly thought this through?Once it’s initiated,there will be no way back.”
He tried to reason gently,“Perhaps Mr.Cole was…confused for a moment.Men,sometimes—”
“Confused?”Clara repeated softly,her laugh bitter and broken.
“No,Uncle Bennett.He wasn’t confused.He made his choice clearly,soberly,and without hesitation.He chose someone else—and he believes it’s only right.”
In her mind,Adrian’s face surfaced again—so calm it was cruel.
She wants stability,so I’ll give her stability.
There was silence on the line.Then Lawyer Bennett sighed.
“I understand your sorrow and anger.But Miss Winter,once this agreement is filed,there truly is no return.It wasn’t easy for you and Mr.Cole to come this far.Do you remember?Back then,to win your grandfather’s approval,he stood outside the Winter estate for three days and two nights in the pouring rain.Burning with fever,yet he refused to leave.”
The words struck her like a key,suddenly unlocking a floodgate of memories.
How could she not remember?
Memories surged back like a tide.
At that time,Adrian Cole was not yet the commanding Mr.Cole he would later become,but merely an ambitious young man without any foundation.
Her father opposed him fiercely,believing his temperament was unstable and that he could never provide her with a steady life.
Adrian chose the clumsiest,yet the most sincere way to prove himself.
When her father tried to arrange a marriage between she and Jonathan Hale,Adrian stood outside in a torrential downpour,stubbornly demanding a chance.
Clara watched through the window as his drenched figure wavered yet remained upright.Her heart ached unbearably at the sight.
In the end,her father relented,and the two of them started from nothing.
When the company’s funds ran dry and salaries could not be paid,Adrian concealed the truth from her.He went instead to a former rival,lowering himself,drinking to borrow money,until he bled from an ulcer and ended up in the hospital.
She kept vigil by his bedside,weeping,while Adrian only smiled,brushing away her tears.
“Clara,don’t cry.For you,all of this is worth it.”
“In this lifetime,I,Adrian Cole,will never betray you.”
They lived in a cramped rented apartment,sometimes sharing a single bowl of instant noodles.He would always push the sausage and the fried egg into her bowl.
In winter,he warmed her frozen feet with his body heat.In summer,he fanned her to sleep,sweating through his own shirt.
When Adrian signed the walk-away-with-nothing clause,he did not hesitate.He held her hand and said,
“If I sign this,will you finally feel safe staying with me forever?Everything I have is yours—including me.”
That burning love,those shared struggles,the solemn promises—they had been so real,etched into her very bones.
Could it all be voided simply because of Vanessa?
Had Adrian’s devotion all been false?
Clara’s heart quaked violently,pain tangled with reluctance and confusion.
She hated his betrayal,but the years they had shared were already part of her very blood,not something that could be torn away so easily.
Sensing her silence and her ragged breathing,Lawyer Bennett spoke cautiously:
“Miss Winter,legally,although both parties have signed,before the agreement can take effect,the law grants you a seven-day consideration period.”
“During those seven days,the contract remains pending submission.My advice is…take time to think it through.”
“Not for him,but for yourself—to be sure you will not regret it later.”
Clara closed her eyes.Scalding tears slid down her face,quickly chilled by the night wind.
Regret?
She was already being torn apart by the searing pain.
But she knew the lawyer was right.
A decision made in anger and despair might not be calm enough.
She needed time.She needed to breathe.She needed to lift her head,just for a moment,from the grief drowning her,and decide what she truly wanted.
“…Alright.”
She let out a weary sigh.
“By the rules then—seven days.”
After hanging up,Clara stood alone on the bustling city street.
Crowds surged around her,traffic roared past,yet she felt only a crushing loneliness and cold.
By evening,she dragged her leaden legs home.The sky had already fallen into darkness.
She unlocked the door with her fingerprint,only to find a pair of unfamiliar high heels tossed carelessly in the entryway.
Adrian’s leather shoes were kicked off beside them.
A sharp dread gripped her heart.
She hurried into the living room—and froze,her blood nearly turning to ice.
Deafening electronic music thundered through the living room,a jarring contrast to the soothing classical pieces she usually loved.
On the sofa,Adrian lounged at ease.
In his arms sat Vanessa,bubblegum-pink hair spilling over her shoulders,dressed in hot pants and a cropped top.She swirled a glass of red wine,laughing so hard her whole body trembled,practically glued to Adrian’s side.
Clara’s cherished ragdoll cat,Snowball,was tied around the neck with a random length of rope.Terrified,it dangled from the spiral staircase leading to the second floor.The other end of the rope was knotted casually to the railing.Snowball’s small body writhed helplessly,crying out;with every swing it came closer to a deadly fall.
“Snowball!”Clara cried out,her voice breaking,ready to run forward.
“Oh my,the lady of the house is back?”Vanessa’s syrupy voice rang out,laced with malice and mockery.
She didn’t stop;instead she excitedly whipped out her phone,recording the frightened cat.
“Adrian,look at it—swinging back and forth like a plush toy!Isn’t it funny?Hahaha!”
At her words,Adrian actually gave a low laugh.He tightened his arm around Vanessa,his eyes—hidden behind gold-rimmed glasses—sliding over the terrified cat before settling on Clara’s pale face.There was not a trace of guilt in them,only indulgence.
He seemed to enjoy Vanessa’s vicious“energy,”even found it amusing.
In that instant,Clara remembered three years ago,when Snowball was just a tiny kitten and Adrian had placed it in her arms,saying:
“Clara,when I’m away on business,let this little one keep you company.Look at its blue eyes—just like yours,pure and trusting.”
Back then,Adrian had patiently fed Snowball and cleaned its litter box—simply because she loved it.
The tenderness in her memories and the cruelty before her formed a blade,driving straight through her heart.
“Adrian,are you even human anymore?Put Snowball down!”Clara’s voice shook as she tried to rush toward the stairs.
Vanessa’s face hardened.She slammed her wineglass down,snatched up a vase from near the entryway,and hurled it at Clara.The vase shattered at her feet,shards and cold water splashing up her legs.
“What are you acting out for?”Vanessa stood,hands on hips,jabbing a finger at Clara’s face with a shrill voice.“Who told you to come back?You annoy me just by existing.”
Then she spun back into Adrian’s arms,clutching his arm like a spoiled child.Her voice turned plaintive.
“Adrian,why did you let her come back?Didn’t you say this was going to be our home from now on?I don’t like her.I don’t want to live under the same roof.”
Her tone rose,louder,as if to make a point:
“I’m with you because I love you.I don’t care that you had a wife,but I won’t be some hidden mistress.I want you completely.With her here,what does that make me?If people find out,won’t they say I’m just your kept woman?I’m an independent person.I’m not anyone’s accessory!”
This absurd speech—spoken by the woman who had broken another’s marriage yet cast herself as the victim—fell on Adrian’s ears like some grand declaration.His eyes gleamed with deeper pleasure and approval,clearly delighted by Vanessa’s“independence”and“boldness.”
He nodded again and again,coaxing her:
“Alright,alright,Vanessa’s right.This is my fault.I shouldn’t have let her offend your eyes.”
Without so much as glancing at Clara,he picked up the phone.
“Security,come in.Please‘escort’Mrs.Cole out.”
Clara stared at him in disbelief,as though seeing the man for the first time.For this new lover,he not only allowed her to torment the pet Clara loved like family—he now meant to drive out his lawful wife.
Two security guards entered quickly,expressionless,moving toward Clara.
“Wait—”Clara struggled,her eyes locked on Snowball,still crying out in terror above.“My cat.Give Snowball back to me!”
“Cat?”Vanessa’s eyes glinted with malice.She cut in first,smiling slyly.
“That cat was bought by Adrian.All its food and care came from his money.So of course it’s his.Why should we give it to you?”
Vanessa’s gaze swept over Clara,lingering on her dress and the bag in her hand.Her smile grew smug.
“Oh,that dress—you’re wearing Chanel’s latest season,aren’t you?Bought with Adrian’s money,right?And that bag—Hermès?His money too.Take them off!Do you not understand what‘walk away with nothing’means?None of this belongs to you!”
Clara’s body went cold.
She turned to Adrian,her eyes holding the faintest plea.Even if there was only a shred of humanity left in him,a trace of their past…
For a moment,when Adrian met her gaze,he seemed to hesitate.His brows furrowed slightly as he said to Vanessa,“Vanessa,forget the dress…”
It was just a dress.Adrian still had that much generosity in him.
But that meager defense ignited Vanessa’s fury.
“Forget it?Why should I?”
Vanessa erupted,shoving him hard as though she had been gravely wronged.She began to stomp and wail hysterically.
“Adrian,what do you mean by this?You’re still protecting her,aren’t you?I knew it!You lied to me!You said you only loved me—what a joke!”
She beat against his chest with her fists as she sobbed.“I followed you as your mistress,with no name and no status,and I never complained.Now I’m only asking to take back what’s yours,and suddenly you’re unwilling?I don’t care!Everything in this house is yours.She doesn’t get to take a single thing.Not even the dress she’s wearing!If you won’t do it,then I’m leaving right now!”
She spun on her heel,making for the door.
Adrian panicked.He caught her at once,clutching her tightly,every trace of hesitation and clarity vanishing.
He soothed her in a low,coaxing tone:“Baby,sweetheart,don’t be angry.How could I ever protect her?I only want you.You’re right about everything—I’ll listen to you,alright?Just don’t go.”
Then he turned on Clara,his eyes hard and impatient.
“Clara Winter,didn’t you hear me?Take off the dress and get out.Stop being an eyesore to Vanessa!”
The last fragment of hope shattered.
Clara looked at the man who had once held her as if she were his whole world.Now he was like a dog wagging its tail,groveling before another woman—degrading himself without the slightest bottom line just to please her.
And above them,Snowball still whimpered faintly,dangling in terror.
Despair and rage surged in Clara’s chest,threatening to consume her.Yet when she looked at Snowball’s fragile form,every scream of defiance lodged in her throat.She couldn’t risk it.Not while Snowball was still in their hands.
Humiliation burned her eyes with tears,but she forced them back.
Under Adrian’s cold stare,beneath Vanessa’s malicious gaze,Clara’s trembling fingers pulled down the zipper of her dress.
The gown Adrian had once chosen for her with his own hands slid to the floor,leaving her standing in nothing but her undergarments,her body shaking.
The chill of the air wrapped around her,but it was nothing compared to the ice inside her heart.
She remembered the day he had bought this dress,whispering in her ear:
“Clara,you look most beautiful in white.Like my bride.”
And now,in her own home,she was stripped of dignity like some mistress caught in the act,driven out the door.
Clara bent down to pick up the fallen dress.
“Don’t touch it!”
Vanessa’s sharp voice rang out.“That’s mine now!”
Clara’s hand froze in midair.
She cast one last look at Snowball,still hanging high above,its cries weak and broken.The pain in her chest was so sharp it almost convulsed.
Straightening her back that felt close to breaking,Clara refused to look again at the pair embracing on the sofa.Barefoot,she stepped over the cold tiles and the shards of broken porcelain,one step at a time,toward the open door.
Behind her came Vanessa’s triumphant laugh and Adrian’s low murmur of appeasement—sounds that crushed the last fragments of Clara’s love and warmth into dust.
She had nothing left.
And now she was certain—she would not regret it.
In six days,she would be free of this faithless man forever!
In the small hours of the morning,Clara walked barefoot,wearing nothing but her underwear,along the icy streets of early autumn.
The streetlights stretched her shadow long;passing headlights swept over her pale,vacant face and bare skin,drawing a few ambiguous whistles and prying glances.
She didn’t notice.She only felt numb—desperate to escape.
At last she saw a small,reasonably clean-looking motel.It felt like a lifeline.Staggering,she stepped inside.
Behind the counter,a middle-aged woman dozed.Startled awake,she looked Clara up and down,suspicion flickering in her eyes.
“One room,”Clara rasped.Her voice was hoarse,almost soundless.
The woman curled her lip and slid over a registration form.“ID.Five-hundred cash deposit.”
Clara reached instinctively for her bag and found nothing.
Only then did she remember—her purse,her phone,everything—left behind in that villa.
She had nothing on her but the humiliating scraps of underwear she wore.
The color drained from her face.She forced out the words:“I…I don’t have cash or my phone.Could I—”
The woman’s expression turned instantly impatient and contemptuous.“No money?No ID?Then why come here for a room?What do you think this place is?Go on,get out!”
Her gaze was the kind used for women of ill repute.
Clara flinched under it,humiliation burning deeper.
She took a steadying breath,clinging to the last shred of composure.“I…I have a card.I can pay with a card.”
She remembered the hidden pocket sewn into the side of her underwear where she always kept a spare debit card—her own savings,part of her dowry,never mingled with Adrian Cole’s assets.
The woman looked doubtful but handed her the card reader.
Clara’s trembling fingers slid the thin card in.
Transaction failed.
She tried again.
Transaction failed.
“What’s going on?Out of money?Don’t waste my time,”the woman snapped.
“That’s impossible…there’s money in that account…”Clara’s mind spun.Her knees almost gave way.
“Could I borrow your phone?Just to call the bank,”she pleaded.
With obvious reluctance,the woman pushed over the desk phone.
Clara dialed the bank’s service number from memory.
The polite but icy voice of the operator came through:“Hello,Ms.Winter.Our records show this account was temporarily frozen this afternoon at the request of your spouse,citing a property dispute.”
Spouse.Adrian Cole.
The world tilted.A ringing filled her ears.
He had thrown her out,taken her cat,humiliated her dignity—and now he was stripping away even the one thing that was wholly hers.
He meant to drive her to a dead end.
Clara snatched up the phone and dialed Adrian’s number.
It rang for a long time before it was answered—not by Adrian,but by Vanessa’s sharp,triumphant voice.
“Hello?Who’s this?Looking for Adrian?He’s in the shower—no time for you.”
Clara clenched her jaw,her voice trembling.“Vanessa,put Adrian on.How dare he freeze my card?That’s my money.”
“Well,well.And who might this be?Oh—it’s the ex-Mrs.Cole!”Vanessa’s tone dripped with mockery.“Your money?Don’t make me laugh.You married into the Cole family,you lived on the Cole family’s dime,and you dare say that’s yours?Everything was earned by Adrian.You should be grateful.Even thrown out,you still act like a princess.”
Before Clara could reply,Vanessa barreled on,her voice shrill and relentless:
“Listen,Clara—don’t push your luck!I was out working at sixteen,bussing tables,handing out flyers,pouring drinks in bars,doing whatever it took.I survived on my own.And you?Without Adrian,what are you?What can you even do?”
She paused with malice,then laughed.“Tsk.But your face is decent and your body’s passable.How about this?Out of old acquaintance,I’ll get you a job.There are a few clubs in the south of the city.They cater to rich men.They love women like you who look all high and mighty—pays better than the usual.Interested?Beats starving,right?Hahaha!”
Clara shook all over,her nails digging into her palms.
Vanessa only grew more gleeful,as if basking in her superiority.“Do you know why Adrian liked you?Because he’d never seen the world and you fooled him with that fake prim attitude.You don’t understand him at all.Aside from bossing him around,forbidding this and that,what else can you do?Do you know how stifled he felt with you?How bored?”
“But me?”Her voice swelled with self-satisfaction.“I’m his soulmate.I know what he craves—thrill,freedom.I take him street-racing,bungee jumping,to Macau casinos.I give him the life he’s never tasted.I’m his salvation,the only sun in his dark life.You’re nothing but a nagging housekeeper he’s long since grown sick of!”
Each word was a poisoned needle,piercing Clara’s heart.
She thought of Adrian’s ulcer from all those drinking bouts in his early years.Of the serious car crash he’d once survived,the doctor’s repeated warnings that his heart mustn’t be overstrained.No extreme sports.No pushing limits.
Her“rules”for him had been born of a wife’s worry and love.
And he?
To please this so-called soulmate,he had thrown every warning aside—and now used her care as proof she was“boring.”
He was gambling with his life.
Clara’s heart twisted with pain.
Before she could speak again,she heard Adrian’s voice over the line,the rush of water in the background.He sounded like he’d just stepped out of the shower.
“Vanessa,who are you talking to?”
“Who else?Your clingy ex-wife,”Vanessa sneered.“She’s whining about her card being frozen.Hmph.”
Clara clearly heard Adrian’s impatient reply:“Ignore her.Vanessa,you’re right.Only you understand me.Before I met you,those thirty years meant nothing.You’re the only light in my life.”
Clara hung up silently.Her body felt like ice.
Behind the counter,the woman’s eyes turned even stranger,as if certain she was dealing with a“problem”woman.
Cornered.
Her parents were far abroad—she couldn’t bear to alarm them.
Friends?After marrying Adrian she had all but cut off her old social circle.
Despair rose like a tide,threatening to drown her.
A name surfaced in her mind.
Jonathan Hale.
The Hale and Winter families had been close for generations.Jonathan had been her childhood companion.
If she hadn’t been so determined to marry the self-made Adrian Cole,their families might have joined by marriage.
Even so,Jonathan had remained gracious,never making things difficult.
At her wedding he had sent a generous gift and said,“Clara,if you ever need help,the doors of the Hale family will always be open to you.”
At the time it had sounded like politeness.Now it was her only driftwood.
She borrowed the phone again,drew a deep breath,and dialed the long-neglected number.
After three or four rings,a low,warm male voice answered.“Who is this?”
“Jonathan…”
At that single word,all of Clara’s composure and forced strength shattered.Her voice broke into sobs.“It’s me…Clara…I…I need help…”
Clara could barely form words,unable to explain what had happened to her.She managed only to blurt out the address of the small motel.
On the other end of the line,Jonathan was silent for a few seconds before his steady,reassuring voice came through:
“Stay where you are.Lock the door.Don’t open it for anyone.I’m on my way.”
No questions.No hesitation.
After hanging up,Clara curled into a broken chair beside the motel reception desk.
Time dragged unbearably,every second an agony.
At last,a sleek black Rolls-Royce pulled up in front of the dingy motel,its presence almost absurd in the narrow street.
The driver in a black suit stepped out first,opening the rear door with respect.
Clara thought the driver had come for her—But then a tall,broad-shouldered figure emerged.
Jonathan was wearing a well-tailored charcoal gray suit and had obviously just attended an important event.
His handsome face was etched with worry and urgency.His sharp gaze swept the squalid surroundings before locking onto Clara,huddled in the corner.
His pupils contracted violently.
He strode forward in long,decisive steps and,without hesitation,shrugged off his expensive jacket,wrapping it gently around Clara’s near-bare frame.His touch was achingly careful.
“Clara.”
His voice was low,almost terrifying in its restraint.“Don’t be afraid.I’m here now.”
At that,Clara lifted her head.All the terror,humiliation,and despair she had bottled up through the night broke loose.She collapsed into his arms,sobbing uncontrollably.
Jonathan held her tightly.His gaze cut icy and murderous toward the villa in the distance,rage burning beneath his calm.He patted her back,murmuring over and over:
“It’s alright now,Clara.It’s alright.I’m here.”
That night,Clara burned with a fever that raged so fiercely she was rushed to a private hospital.
Five days later,Clara’s eyes slightly opened.She weakly saw Jonathan sitting on the sofa next to her,looking through documents.
“You’re awake?”He immediately set the papers aside and came over,pressing a hand to her forehead.Relief softened his stern features.“The fever’s finally broken.How do you feel?”
Clara’s throat was so dry she couldn’t speak.
Jonathan gently held a straw cup to her lips,letting her sip warm water.
Just then,her new phone on the nightstand rang.
It was Lawyer Bennett.
“Miss Winter,I’m glad to hear you’re awake.”His voice carried the exhaustion of long days,but also relief.“The seven-day cooling-off period has passed.Since you didn’t revoke the filing,the divorce will be finalized tomorrow morning.Shall I have the certificate and documents delivered to the Cole residence?”
Clara’s heart clenched as though caught in an invisible fist,then slowly released.
She closed her eyes.Memories flashed one after another—
The thrill of first love,the struggle of building a company,the sweet vows once whispered…
And then the coldness of his study,the humiliation in the villa,her cat hanging by a rope,and Vanessa’s venomous sneer.
“Send them back,”she said,her voice steady and clear.
After ending the call,Clara instinctively opened a news app.
She didn’t even need to search.Headlines about the Cole Group flooded the screen:
[Cole Group stock plummets for consecutive days—market value evaporates by billions!]
[CEO Adrian Cole exposed in marital affair scandal—investor confidence crumbles!]
[Who is Adrian Cole’s new lover?Reports suggest troubled background and shady past.]
[Cole Group’s PR crisis spirals—public backlash intensifies!]
There were even blurry paparazzi shots—Vanessa flailing angrily as reporters closed in.
As Clara scrolled,her phone buzzed violently with incoming calls,an onslaught of unfamiliar numbers and vile messages.
She frowned,but before she could react,another call came through.
She answered in silence.
Adrian’s furious roar blasted into her ear:
“Clara Winter,you vicious woman!Was it you?Did you sell this to the press?I can’t believe I ever misjudged you.You pretended to be kind and generous,but inside you’re rotten!You just can’t stand to see me and Vanessa happy,can you?You won’t rest until you destroy us?”
Clara felt her chest ache with a thousand tiny stabs—yet quickly it numbed.
Her voice was calm.“It wasn’t me.I haven’t done anything.”
“Who else could it be?Vanessa told me—it has to be you,jealous and spiteful!”Adrian’s voice dripped with contempt.“Do you realize Vanessa’s being doxxed,harassed online,she can hardly survive?If anything happens to her,I’ll never forgive you.”
Clara almost laughed at the absurdity.
Adrian raged on,panting:
“Where the hell have you been these past days?You had no money on you.I sent people to comb every cheap motel,every bridge,even the shelters.Nowhere.Tell me—where are you?”
Clara pressed her pale lips tight,saying nothing.
Her silence infuriated him.
His tone turned vile,dripping with humiliation:
“Say something!Cat got your tongue?Or is it because you’ve already found yourself a lover?Huh?Another man picked you up,didn’t he?No wonder you’re so bold now.”
From the background came Vanessa’s mocking voice,crystal clear:
“Adrian,do you even need to ask?Of course she did.I told you—she’s no saint.Plays the innocent little angel,but she’s rotten inside.”
“With my years in nightclubs,I know her type.Some rich man must have scooped her up already.Looks pure,but she’s dirty to the bone.Otherwise,where could she possibly be hiding with nothing to her name?”
“Shut up!”
Clara’s voice cracked out before she could stop herself, raw with fury.
She cut them off,hung up,and blocked the number.
Jonathan had been standing quietly a few steps away, watching. He couldn’t catch every word, but he knew enough from Clara’s expression and the fragments she’d spoken. A storm passed behind his eyes, but he swallowed it down and offered only a measured hand and a glass of warm water.
“Not worth your anger,” he said quietly. “Don’t let him steal what little strength you have left.”
Her fingers closed around the cup; they were ice-cold. She looked at him, decision settling like iron in her chest. “Jonathan, I’m leaving tomorrow. I won’t stay here.”
He blinked, then nodded with steady support. “Where do you want to go? I’ll arrange it.”
“I don’t know yet. Just… let it end here.” Her jaw was set. “Everything here ends.”
“Okay.” He bowed his head slightly. “I’ll see you off at the airport tomorrow night. Before you go—dinner. One last farewell.”
She offered a faint, tired smile. “The Western restaurant. The one we used to go to.” It was where she and Adrian had first been young and hopeful. She wanted the place where their beginning had been to mark the end.
That evening the restaurant smelled of butter and old oak. She hadn’t expected to run into them — but there they were: Adrian and Vanessa, laughing, shoulder-to-shoulder as if the world belonged to them. Adrian’s face shifted the moment he saw Clara in the doorway—surprise cracking into something raw and animal: rage.
He shoved Vanessa away like an afterthought and stalked over, seizing Clara’s wrist with a grip that burned. “Where have you been? Who’s that man you were meeting? Don’t lie—who’s your adulterer?” His breath came hard. “I, Adrian, rule this city. I’ll find him and ruin him.”
Vanessa darted forward in a frenzy. Her nails hooked into Clara’s hair, claws raking a red line across her cheek. “Bitch! You dare show your face here and seduce my man?”
Clara—still weak from the fever—staggered backward. The shove sent her down; her forehead smashed the corner of the table. Pain flared hot and sharp. A shocked hush rippled through the room.
Adrian leaned over her like a conqueror. “Listen,” he hissed, voice low and threatening, “until those divorce papers are signed, you’re still my wife. Try to cheat and I’ll bury you—both you and whoever sleeps with you.”
At the sight of Clara on the floor, something in Jonathan broke open. The calm man became a blade. Without a word, he stepped forward and delivered a clean, brutal kick to Adrian’s stomach. Adrian doubled over with a strangled grunt, stumbling back.
“Adrian, you’re courting death,” Jonathan said, voice low and cold. He bent, gathered Clara in one careful motion, and planted himself between her and the wound Adrian had become.
Adrian clutched at his midriff, face flushing. When he saw Jonathan standing there—restrained fury in every line of him—his expression tumbled from pain into ugly, furious mockery. “Jonathan? Ha. So you’ve come to pick up the scraps. Clara, throwing yourself at your ex so fast? Jonathan, you belong to menial things—like picking up my old shoes.”
The words were bait. Jonathan’s eyes narrowed to slits. He stepped forward and, with a single, controlled motion, grabbed Adrian’s collar and drove a fist into his face. Blood split at Adrian’s lip; he staggered, dazed and defeated under the onslaught.
The restaurant broke into shocked noise. Vanessa shrieked and scrabbled at Jonathan’s sleeve, but he didn’t look at her. He turned only once to make sure Clara was on her feet, then faced Adrian like a man who’d finally decided the measure of what he would no longer tolerate.
Adrian—bleeding, humiliated—was a broken image of the man who once stood in the rain begging at Clara’s father’s gate. Now he lay crumpled by the consequences of his own cruelty.
Adrian staggered upright, blood streaking down his mouth, yet he laughed—a broken, manic sound. His finger jabbed toward Clara.
“Jonathan, hit me all you want! Even if you kill me, she’ll still love me. Clara loves me to death—she can’t live without me!”
His eyes burned with madness. “I regret everything, do you hear? I don’t acknowledge that filthy agreement. As long as I don’t sign, she’ll always be my wife. Mine!”
He turned that fevered gaze on her, raw and desperate. “Clara, come home with me. Enough of this nonsense. I promise—no more favoritism. One east wing, one west wing, both of you can live in peace. I was only hard on you to humble your pride. And Snowball—Snowball’s waiting at home. Don’t you miss it?”
He didn’t know Snowball was already gone, escorted away by Jonathan’s men and bound for the airport.
Clara looked at him—this man once admired, now pitiful and grotesque. His words were absurd, his eyes deranged. Slowly, firmly, she shook her head.
“Adrian, it’s over. I’m not going back.”
The ice in her voice cut deeper than any slap. His face twisted, first with disbelief, then fury.
“Fine! You think Jonathan is sincere? He’s just playing with you. You’ll see how long you last without me. Sooner or later, you’ll crawl back on your knees!”
With curses still spilling from his mouth, he yanked Vanessa by the arm and stumbled out, leaving only disgrace in his wake.
Jonathan shielded her with his body, then guided her quickly out of the restaurant.
“Jonathan,” her voice was hoarse but steady, “take me to the airport.”
His brow furrowed. “Not even one more night to rest? Your body—”
“No.” She shook her head, voice sharp with finality. “If I stay, even for one night, I’ll suffocate.”
For a moment, he searched her face. Then he nodded, decisive. “Very well.”
In the car, his voice softened. “Don’t worry. Snowball’s already been checked in through special channels. She’ll be on the same flight. Everything’s arranged.”
Her throat tightened. “Thank you.” It was all she could manage. Gratitude sat heavy in her chest, almost painful.
—
At the airport VIP lounge, the lights glowed sterile and bright. Clara sat in the corner, staring at her phone as it flickered with yet another incoming call.
She hesitated, then slid to answer. Silence pressed for a moment. Then came ragged, animal-like breathing, harsh and uneven.
“Clara!” Adrian’s roar cracked through the receiver. “Speak!”
Her lips parted, voice calm. “It’s me. What else is there to say? Goodbye.”
“No! I won’t let you say goodbye!” His voice spiraled out of control, a grotesque mix of rage and terror. “You’re not leaving! Come back here—right now! I was wrong, I admit it! Everything was my fault. Clara, come back… we can start again!”
Her face remained still, expressionless, listening as though to a stranger.
Then his tone snapped, switching to that familiar cruelty. “Don’t forget—in Baybridge, I’m king. Run as far as you want, I’ll drag you back. No one escapes me. Don’t force me to use my hands.”
The threats, the pleas, the arrogance—it was all the same script. For the first time, it no longer stirred her. Her heart was a stagnant pool, empty of him.
When his voice finally cracked into silence, she spoke, clear and resolute.
“No.”
“Goodbye, Adrian.”
She hung up. The screen went dark. With steady fingers, she pulled the SIM card free and dropped it into the trash bin.
From this moment on, Baybridge—and everything tied to Adrian—ceased to exist in her world.
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