Claire’s world had gone completely silent, put to sleep, stripped of every sound.
Staff moved through the villa.
Two gardeners talked as they worked outside.
Even the leaves rustled against the window, and somewhere overhead, lightning must have cracked the sky.
She couldn’t hear any of it.
Not until a hand landed on her shoulder.
She flinched hard, spinning around, meeting Aunt Nora’s apologetic face.
Aunt Nora set a tray down in front of her, Claire’s favorite dishes and gestured for her to eat.
Claire nodded, sat, and picked at the food quietly.
Her throat still hurts.
She swallowed anyway, in small careful bites.
The doctor said eating well helps you heal faster.
Aunt Nora watched her for a few seconds, pity plain on her face, then pulled out her phone and typed something to show her.
Ma’am, is there anything I can do?
She didn’t understand what had happened between a couple who’d always treated each other with such care but whatever the fight was, it felt wrong for a husband to take a stranger’s side over his own wife’s.
Claire’s eyes stung.
She shook her head and went back to eating, faster now.
If one powerful person is set on crushing you, you need a more powerful one on your side.
A car pulled into the drive.
Aunt Nora glanced out the window, startled.
“That’s Mrs.
Ashford’s car.
This late?
She’s not calling you to the old house again, is she”
She hurried out to greet the visitor.
Claire finished a few more bites, then pulled the divorce agreement from her nightstand drawer, tucked it alongside a second document, and went downstairs.
It was Margaret’s personal assistant, Vera.
“Second Mrs.
Ashford.
This way, please.”
Claire started toward her and a security guard stepped into her path.
“Ma’am, the master’s orders.
You’re not to leave the house for the next few days…”
Claire looked calmly at Vera, letting her handle it.
Vera, being Margaret’s own person, snapped back immediately, ice in her voice.
“Excuse me?
Since when does Mrs.
Ashford need someone’s permission to see her own daughter-in-law?”
“Do you need her to come drag you out herself before you remember who actually runs this house?”
The guard’s hand dropped, awkward, and he watched helplessly as Claire got into the car and it pulled away.
Seeing his hesitation, Aunt Nora offered, “I’ll call the master and let him know.
That way it’s not on either of you.”
Both guards thanked her, relieved.
Aunt Nora made the call but Rosalind answered.
She’d already picked up bits of the family gossip.
Margaret had never liked Claire, and any night she was summoned to the old house alone tended to end badly.
Tonight would probably be no different.
Rosalind glanced over at Ethan, who was washing fruit for her, and said into the phone, “Understood.
If that’s everything, I’ll let you go.”
Aunt Nora pressed.
“Miss, when’s the master finishing up his work?
Should we let him know what’s happening?”
Rosalind toyed idly with the spare processor unit in her lap, voice syrupy and slow.
“Aunt Nora, you’re an elder in this house, best to keep your eyes open and not get involved in everything.
I’ll pass along whatever needs saying to Ethan myself.
No need to instruct me.”
She hung up the instant Ethan walked back in with the fruit.
“Who was that?”
Rosalind’s eyes flicked, evasive.
“Aunt Nora.
Looking for Claire, I think but she wouldn’t say what was wrong, just kept crying…”
Ethan’s brow furrowed.
“She’s crying?”
Rosalind’s hand tightened around the hidden processor under the blanket, her smile carefully arranged.
“Mm.
Maybe you should go check on her.
She seems pretty pitiful right now.”
She went to such lengths to get your attention, got rid of a cat she’d raised for years.
What if she does something reckless in the middle of all this?
“What’s there to check on?
I’ve spoiled her too long as it is.
She needs time to actually think about how she’s going to coexist with you going forward.”
Besides plenty of food in the house, plenty of comfort.
She just can’t hear well.
What kind of trouble could she possibly get into?
“Here.
Eat.”
Rosalind accepted the fruit he fed her and asked, carefully, “Going forward…
living under one roof, there’s bound to be friction.
How do you actually want things to go between us?”
Ethan answered without much thought.
“We’ll see how it goes.
I’d guess Claire’s learned her lesson after tonight.”
Rosalind’s eyes dropped, jealousy simmering beneath the surface.
He still has no intention of pushing her out.
Good thing she’d already made arrangements last night to have Claire moved out on her own.
Ashford Manor is worth hundreds of millions.
There’s only room for one mistress of this house and it’s going to be me.
The old estate.
Claire handed the first document to Vera, who passed it to Margaret.
It was something Margaret had given her privately, the night before Claire and Ethan registered their marriage.
Ten million, if Claire agreed to walk away from him.
The offer never expired.
It had made one thing painfully clear Margaret had never once believed in this marriage.
Claire had been so certain back then, immovable no matter what threats or bribes Margaret threw at her, disgusted by the very idea of being bought off.
But disgust hadn’t stopped her from keeping the paper.
She’d tucked it carefully at the bottom of a box, buried under her own research files.
She wasn’t foolish.
A safety net never hurt anyone.
As it turned out no matter how deep feelings ran, they were never as reliable as a signed contract and money already in hand.
Margaret’s signature had been on that page for three years.
Claire’s line had stayed blank.
Until half an hour ago.
She’d signed it and brought it straight here.
Margaret sneered.
“I begged you not to marry him, once upon a time.
If Ethan truly cared about you, he never would’ve burned bridges with his own family just to have you.
A man that thoughtful you think he didn’t consider all of this?
Even now, he’s still my son.
But marrying into this family only ever made you a target.”
He simply doesn’t care enough about you to bother thinking that far ahead.
“Look at how satisfied Rosalind seems these days.
He guards her like she’s made of glass, terrified I might swallow her whole.
That’s what actual affection looks like.”
Do you think I don’t know my own son?
Have I said one wrong word tonight?
Claire sat quietly, watching Margaret’s mouth move fast, catching the general shape of it.
She didn’t bother reading the rest closely.
It was nothing but mockery pointing out how badly she’d overestimated her place in this family.
After several minutes of it, Margaret’s gaze landed on Claire’s bare left ear, and something like futility settled over her face like punching a pillow.
What’s the point of arguing with someone who can’t even hear it?
“Vera.
Tell her my word is my word.
She leaves Ethan, the ten million is hers.”
But getting Ethan to sign off willingly won’t be simple.
She’s still just a placeholder.
If this actually ends in divorce, the backlash would drown Rosalind before she ever got the ring.
Whatever I can think of, Ethan’s already thought of.
He won’t agree to a divorce easily.
While Margaret talked, Vera signed the gist of it to Claire.
Without a word, Claire pulled out the second document, the divorce agreement.
Margaret spotted Ethan’s signature and paused, caught off guard.
“…You came prepared.”
Claire said nothing, giving no reaction either way.
Truthfully, she’d never planned to use the first document at all.
She only wanted the divorce, and to leave.
No money from the Ashfords.
No trouble stirred up in return.
But Ethan and Rosalind had backed her into a corner she couldn’t afford to sit quietly in anymore.
“Fine.
That’s enough.
I’ll have Vera push the paperwork through a week at most.”
Claire signed a question in careful gestures: Are you sure Ethan and I don’t need to appear in person?
Margaret scoffed.
“What class of family do you think this is?
You imagine we handle things the way ordinary people do?
A marriage license might need both of you standing there a divorce, especially one with no assets to split, is far simpler than that.”
She handed the paper off to Vera and took a sip of her tea.
“Now that you’ve had your say, it’s my turn.
Tomorrow morning, you’re coming with me to the hospital to see the old lady.
You’re going to tell her, in person, that you’re pregnant.”