Chapter 2

Clara's POV

I took a two-hour train ride to an out-of-town private clinic for an ultrasound.

Every high-end hospital in the city was owned by the Sterling family network. If I checked in locally, Julian’s phone would ring before I even passed the reception desk.

Disguised in a ball cap and a surgical mask, I sat in the waiting room all morning.

The termination procedure was scheduled for the following afternoon.

That night, lying on the bed of an anonymous boutique hotel near the clinic, my phone lit up.

Caller ID: Vanessa.

I stared at the glowing letters before swiping to answer.

Silence on the line.

And then, the sounds came through.

The rhythmic, muffled creaking of a headboard against drywall.

Then a woman’s stifled moans, accompanied by a man’s low, heavy pants.

That voice was etched into my soul. The very voice that had murmured sweet nothings into my ear for three years was now breathing heavy against another woman's neck.

My hand shook uncontrollably as I held the phone.

I didn't hang up.

I just lay there, listening, letting the audio scrape away every last shred of my dignity.

I listened until the heavy breathing subsided, until I heard Julian murmur a muffled promise, and Vanessa let out a lazy, satisfied chuckle.

Then the line went dead.

I threw the phone onto the mattress, curling myself into a tight ball under the duvet, my teeth chattering so hard they ached.

I picked up the phone and dialed Julian’s personal cell.

It rang for nearly a minute before he finally picked up.

"Clara? What is it?" His voice was breathless and strained. "I'm still at the office working on an emergency pitch. Let's talk when I get home—"

"I don't feel well," I said. My voice was eerily calm, like a frozen lake. "Come home and stay with me, please."

"Right now?" He paused, sounding flustered. "Baby, I really can't get away. It's a critical board meeting—"

"Julian," I cut him off. "I am asking you one last time. Are you coming home or not?"

Dead silence hung between us for five seconds.

Then, he hung up.

Listening to the dial tone, I slowly lowered the phone. A single tear hit the dark glass screen.

Later that night, a stabbing pain tore through my lower abdomen.

I hit the emergency bell on the wall.

When the hotel staff and paramedics kicked the door open, blood had already soaked through the white sheets.

In the ambulance, fluorescent streetlights flashed across my face through the back window like a blur.

Clutching the gurney rails with white knuckles, I heard the paramedic shout above the siren:

"Female, eight weeks pregnant, massive hemorrhage! Prep the trauma bay immediately!"

Only one thought flickered in my fading consciousness:

This baby chose the wrong time to exist. Just like me.

When I opened my eyes again, the morning sun was spilling over the sterile floor.

The surgeon stood by the foot of my bed, pulling down his mask with a solemn sigh.

"Mrs. Sterling, I'm so sorry. We couldn't save the pregnancy."

I rested my hand over my empty belly and said nothing.

I walked out of the clinic entirely on my own. A dull, thumping ache radiated through my core, making every step feel like walking on broken glass.

I sat on a concrete bench by the roadside for thirty minutes, watching commuters rush past, before hailing a cab to the train station.

It was midnight when I unlocked the front door of our penthouse.

Chloe was waiting on the living room couch. The moment she heard the latch, she jumped up.

"How was it?"

"The baby is gone." I tossed my handbag onto the foyer bench and collapsed into the sofa, closing my eyes. "What's the plan?"

"One week from now," Chloe whispered, sitting beside me. "I scouted the route. There’s a sharp curve on the old county highway with zero traffic cameras. Just beyond the rusted guardrail is a hundred-foot drop into the river gorge. The car will catch fire and burn down to the chassis. The vehicle is registered under an untraceable shell company."

"And my personal effects?"

"Your phone, purse, and a blood-stained wool coat will be left in the wreckage," Chloe said, looking at me with heavy eyes. "The blood samples are mine. We share the same blood type. DNA profiling will take days. By the time forensics realizes what happened, your flight will have crossed the ocean."

I nodded slowly.

"Thank you, Chloe."

"Don't thank me," she breathed with a shudder. "I just hope to God you don't look back."

I kept my eyes shut.

The next afternoon, Julian came home.

He walked through the door with an exuberant smile, dangling a set of keys before dropping them into my palm. He proudly declared that he had bought a gated coastal estate under my name so we could move in once our baby arrived.

I stared at his beaming face and gave a quiet, indifferent nod.

Assuming it was just pregnancy hormones making me moody, he chattered away, enthusiastically describing the layout of the nursery and the interior design.

"By the way, didn't you mention you had a college reunion coming up? When is it?"

"The day after tomorrow."

"I'll drive you."

"No need," I replied calmly. "It's an all-girls brunch. Having you there would make everyone uncomfortable. Besides, I'm meeting my mentor, Mr. Evans, right after to discuss a freelance campaign."

He hesitated for a second before nodding.

"Alright. Just don't push yourself too hard."

The reunion was held in a private VIP lounge at an elite downtown club.

When I arrived, the room was already packed.

A swarm of former classmates crowded around me, flattering my skin and cooing over my picture-perfect marriage, calling me the luckiest girl of our graduating class.

I smiled politely, nodding along.

Suddenly, someone pointed toward the doorway, gasping in awe.

A line of club attendants filed in, bearing high-end luxury gift bags. The head concierge bowed respectfully: "Mr. Julian Sterling sent these as personal courtesy gifts for all the lovely ladies today."

The women rushed over, squealing in delight as they unpacked limited-edition silk scarves and diamond-studded Cartier bracelets.

"Your husband is not just loaded, he's totally obsessed with you!" someone gushed.

Sitting in the corner, clutching a cup of iced water, I wore a faint smile, but inside, my veins ran cold.

Just then, the mahogany double doors were pushed open.

Everyone fell silent.

Vanessa stood in the frame, wearing a scarlet bandage dress with immaculate makeup, swinging an Hermès Birkin on her forearm. Her eyes locked straight onto mine.