After midnight, Claire got back to Southside Apartments.
A pair of men’s dress shoes sat by the door. Jacob was here.
The living room smelled like alcohol. Jacob lounged on the couch with his tie loosened, exposing the sharp line of his collarbone.
Seeing Claire, he smirked. "It’s my birthday. Where have you been?"
He pulled her into his arms and tried to kiss her, his breath heavy with alcohol.
The sight of him made Claire’s stomach turn. She tried to pull away, but he caught her chin and forced her face back toward him.
"Not even a happy birthday? That’s cold, Claire."
Jacob’s hand slid slowly up Claire’s smooth thigh.
"I’m still waiting for my birthday present. So, are you finally going to give me what I want?"
Jacob had always loved the way Claire looked. If he hadn’t, he never would have stayed with her for six years, waiting for her to finally give in.
Her eyes were especially beautiful, the kind that could pull a man in.
She was sweet and soft with him too. He liked that just as much.
"Jacob." Claire thought of her mother. Then Yvonne. His touch made her skin crawl. "Let go. My hand hurts."
Jacob kept her pinned against him, his voice coaxing. "What’s wrong with you tonight, sweetheart?"
Claire’s voice came out rough. "When are they going to find a kidney for my mom?"
"I’m working on it. Her case is complicated. You know that." Jacob lowered his voice, still trying to soothe her. "I’ll have the doctors review her case again tomorrow. I’m tired, Claire. Don’t start a fight over this."
Claire closed her eyes and laughed bitterly to herself.
Then she asked the second question. "When are you going to marry me?"
Jacob paused. "Why are you asking me that now?"
His thumb brushed slowly over her lips, as if he were playing with a pet.
"I’ll give you anything you want, Claire. But I can’t make you Mrs. Sinclair."
Jacob was handsome. His features were sharp and perfectly cut, and his charming eyes could make anyone feel like they were the only person in the room.
Too bad the words coming from those lips were so cruel.
"Then we’re done, Jacob. Moonstone Studio is ending its partnership with Sinclair Group too."
The room went still.
The teasing look vanished from Jacob’s eyes, replaced by something dark and dangerous.
"Marriage is just a piece of paper. Why do you care so much? I love you. You’re the only woman I have. Isn’t that enough?"
’Love?’
He loved her enough to lie that there was no kidney match. Loved her enough to risk her mother’s life. Loved her enough to marry another woman behind her back.
Claire almost laughed. The man in front of her suddenly felt like a stranger, and he disgusted her.
"If you can’t marry me, then let’s end this cleanly."
Jacob grabbed her shoulders and shoved her back against the couch.
"End this cleanly? What about your mother? Your studio? Have you thought about what happens next?"
He gave Claire’s cheek two light taps. They didn’t hurt, but the humiliation did.
"I know you want a ring, but don’t threaten me with a breakup."
Just then, his phone rang, and Yvonne’s name lit up the screen.
Jacob released Claire. His voice softened instantly. "All right, Ms. Warren. I’m on my way."
Before he left, he tossed one last line over his shoulder. "If you’re upset, go buy yourself something. I don’t have the patience to coddle you."
The door slammed behind him.
Claire lay on the couch for a long time, until the dull pain in her back finally went numb.
She slowly sat up, tugged at the torn hem of her dress, and walked into the bathroom with a blank expression.
Cold water soaked her from head to toe. The woman in the mirror looked pale, but her eyes had never been clearer.
Claire dried off and went into the walk-in closet.
It was packed with expensive gifts Jacob had given her whenever he was in a generous mood. She used to treasure them too much to touch them. Now they could finally be useful.
Claire took pictures and sent them to a luxury reseller.
[Everything. Make me an offer.]
That same night, Claire cleared every trace of herself out of the apartment. She left the key with security, packed a suitcase, and moved in with her best friend, Sharon Carter.
"You’re really doing this?" Sharon was stunned. Everyone knew Claire had spent six years hopelessly devoted to Jacob.
Claire nodded.
"Then move the studio out of Sinclair Group too. If you’re cutting him off, cut him off for real. You got OCHH into Paris Fashion Week while you were still in college. Why are you still working under Jacob?"
"Leaving Sinclair Group would cost Moonstone Studio 50 million dollars," Claire said.
That shut Sharon up.
Claire knew Jacob too well. He wasn’t going to let her walk away that easily.
Her thoughts drifted to Miles. "But it won’t be for much longer."
Selling the gifts went smoothly.
Two days later, the money hit Claire’s bank account.
Claire owed Miles 200,000 dollars, but she had only transferred 100,000 dollars to the card.
She had other plans for the rest.
***
The next morning, Claire got up early and did her makeup. Foundation hid the dark circles under her eyes, and a little blush brought some color back to her cheeks.
She chose a fitted beige sweater dress that wasn’t too tight and showed just enough of her collarbone.
She also brought a thermos of slow-cooked oatmeal she’d spent two hours making.
At the hospital, Miles’s office door was partly open. Claire pushed it wider.
Miles had his back to her as he took off his jacket.
His shoulders were broad, and sunlight through his white shirt traced the lean line of his waist.
Claire’s heart skipped. ’Seriously. That waist.’
Miles turned around. His fingers paused halfway through buttoning his lab coat.
"Dr. Warren, I wanted to thank you. My mom’s doing much better, so I made you breakfast."
Claire set the thermos down and rubbed the Band-Aid on her finger, making her voice extra sweet.
"I’m kind of hopeless in the kitchen. Hope you don’t mind."
Miles glanced at the thermos, then slowly looked up at her tired but carefully made-up face.
He saw straight through the act, but he didn’t call her on it.
"Treating patients is my job, Ms. Kendall. You don’t have to do all this."
His tone was calm and polite but clearly distant.
Claire kept smiling. "It’s just a small thank-you. It doesn’t come close to what you did for us." She took out the bank card and bit her lip. "I only managed to get 100,000 dollars together."
She lowered her lashes, showing just the right amount of vulnerability. "Can I pay you the rest later?"
Miles gave a cool nod.
Claire took her chance. "I’ll probably have more questions about my mom’s treatment. Could I get your number? I hate having to come all the way to the hospital every time I need to ask you something."
For a few seconds, the office was silent.
Just as Claire thought she had pushed too far, Miles picked up his phone and opened his contact info.
His fingers were long and clean, with neatly trimmed nails and defined knuckles. They looked made for holding a scalpel and were better-looking than any hand model’s she had seen online.
Claire stared a second too long. Miles tipped the phone toward her, snapping her out of it. She quickly exchanged numbers with him.
"I’ll come back for the thermos next time."
Perfect. The thermos gave her an excuse to see him again.
The door closed.
Miles stared at the new contact on his phone.
Claire’s profile picture was a selfie outside Aethel University.
His thumb hovered over Delete Contact for several minutes.
In the end, he locked the screen without deleting her.
The second Claire stepped out of his office, the sweet, harmless look disappeared from her face. Near the nurses’ station, she caught their whispers.
She stopped around the corner.
"You know why Dr. Warren suddenly helped that girl?"
"He put up 200 grand without even blinking."
"Seriously, why?"