Chapter 2: Echoes in the Grand Hall
When the front door slammed shut, echoing like a gunshot through the mansion, the heavy tension slowly dissolved into a quiet, heavy stillness. Ethan turned back to Clara, sinking to one knee again. His stern, guarded expression softened completely.
"Are you hurt?" he asked softly, extending a hand to help her stand.
Clara hesitated before taking his hand. Her palm was small and cold compared to his rough, warm grip. "I'm okay... just shaken. The baby... I felt him move, but it was just fear."
"Come," Ethan said, guiding her carefully away from the shards of glass scattered near the decorative wall mirror Victoria had struck. "You shouldn't be standing on this floor. Let's get you to the kitchen where it's warm."
They walked in silence down the grand hallway, past ornate portraits of Ethan's family—pictures filled with cold, distant faces from a legacy built on corporate ambition and unforgiving expectations. For years, Ethan had tried to fit into that world, taking over his family's estate and marrying into Victoria's wealthy lineage. But every step inside these walls had felt like wearing armor that was far too heavy.
In the kitchen, the atmosphere was different—cozier, filled with the faint scent of dried herbs and wooden cabinets. Ethan poured a glass of warm water and handed it to Clara. She sat at the heavy oak table, her hands wrapped around the glass for warmth.
"Why didn't you tell me she was coming back today?" Ethan asked, leaning against the counter.
Clara looked down at the water. "She arrived unannounced. She found me organizing the west wing, and... she saw the medallion I was wearing."
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Ethan froze. "The silver medallion?"
Clara slowly pulled a small silver pendant from beneath her blue collar. It was engraved with a crest—the same crest carved into the wooden mantelpiece in the mansion's study. "She knew immediately. She demanded to know where I got it, and when I wouldn't answer, she lost control."
