Chapter 4
Clara walked slowly toward the grand mahogany doors, leaving the stunned gathering behind her. The guests pressed themselves against the backs of their chairs as she passed, unwilling to make eye contact with the woman they had mocked only moments before. Even Eleanor remained frozen, her mouth slightly open in shock, utterly stripped of her usual biting retorts. Only David made a half-hearted attempt to follow.
"Clara, wait! Where are you going? You can't just walk out like this. We have a life here, our baby is coming in a month!" David called out, scrambling out of his chair and taking a few hurried steps toward the doorway.
Clara stopped just short of the threshold and turned back to look at him. The overhead chandelier illuminated the stark contrast between David’s pristine blue button-down shirt and her own soiled, stained dress. Yet, looking at him now, she didn't see a successful businessman or a devoted husband. She saw a frightened, small man who had traded his integrity for comfort and security.
"Our baby is going to grow up knowing that dignity matters more than money, David," Clara said clearly, her voice echoing off the high ceilings. "Pack whatever you want from your closet, but by the time I return with the sheriff and movers tomorrow morning, I expect you and your mother to be gone."
"You can't evict us from our own home!" David protested, his voice cracking with rising panic. "This is Sterling property!"
"According to the documents Mr. Vance just presented, and the federal injunction I just signed, it is my property," Clara replied evenly. "And I am revoking your invitation to stay."
She turned her back on him and walked out into the grand foyer, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor. Marcus Vance fell into step beside her, carrying his leather folio tucked securely under his arm. As they approached the heavy front doors, Marcus reached out and pushed them open, letting in a cool breath of night air that chased away the stale scent of gravy and expensive perfume.
"You handled that with remarkable poise, Mrs. Sterling," Marcus noted quietly as they stepped out onto the expansive front porch.
"Poise is just fear that has learned how to dress itself, Mr. Vance," Clara replied, taking a deep, cleansing breath of the cool evening air. She placed both hands on her protruding belly, feeling the rhythmic thump of her child. For the first time in years, she felt light. The weight of expectations, the suffocating rules of a family that despised her, the constant, grinding pressure to be someone she wasn't—it was all evaporating into the night.
May you like
"My car is waiting at the end of the drive," Marcus offered, gesturing toward a sleek black sedan parked near the fountain. "I have booked a quiet suite at the downtown hotel under a secure name. It is fully prepared for your arrival, and I have security personnel stationed outside the door."
Clara paused at the top of the stone steps, looking back one last time at the glowing windows of the mansion. "Thank you, Marcus. But first, I need to make a phone call."
