Chapter 7
The house was too quiet when Clara slipped in from work, her bag still slung over her tired shoulders. Silence in this house was never peace for her—it was a trap. And sure enough, in the sitting room, Margaret and Julia sat poised like twin predators, their sharp eyes glittering with anticipation.?
“Finally,” Margaret said, her voice edged with disdain. “We’ve been waiting all evening.”
Clara tightened her grip on her bag. “Waiting for what?”
Julia leaned back, lips curving into a cruel smile. “For you ofcourse” She smirked, tossing her glossy hair over one shoulder. “I saw you at the market with that… pauper. The one in the ragged shirt, Ethan right? That’s the name on his uniform.”
Clara flinched inwardly, though she tried not to show it.
Julia’s voice rose with mocking laughter. “God, Clara, you couldn’t embarrass this family more if you tried. A broke delivery man? He probably sleeps in a cardboard box under the bridge.”
Margaret’s disdain cut sharper than Julia’s. “I will not have any of my daughters associated with gutter rats. Especially when Julia has already secured someone far more suitable.” Her eyes gleamed with triumph. “Brandon Pierce. A Pierce, Clara. You know the name.”
Clara’s stomach sank. Everyone in the city knew him. He was a spoiled heirs who treated women like toys. The tabloids regularly carried gossip of his escapades.
Julia clasped her hands, feigning innocence. “He’s taking me to dinner tomorrow at La Vienne. I expect you to drive me there and wait until we’re done. Don’t be late.”
Margaret’s voice cracked like a whip. “And make yourself invisible while you’re at it. Don’t ruin your sister’s chance with a careless word or look.”
Clara nodded numbly, swallowing the bitterness crawling up her throat. She’d be tired after a long day at the office but there was no point arguing. It only made things worse.
-----
The next evening, Clara forced her aching body into Margaret’s car after her office shift. She hadn’t eaten all day. By the time they arrived at La Vienne—a first class dining masterpiece of glass, chandeliers, and velvet—the hunger gnawed at her stomach like knives. Julia swept inside in a glitter of silk, barely sparing her a glance, while Clara slipped into the background, as always.
She didn’t notice Adrian already seated at a shadowed corner table, reserved exclusively for him. It was hidden but gave him a great view of the entire floor. He was dressed down, deliberately inconspicuous, but his gaze sharpened the moment he saw Clara trailing behind Julia. What was Clara Bennett doing here, pale with exhaustion, her clothes creased from work? He masked his interest, sipping his wine, but his mind catalogued everything—the sharp tilt of her chin, the way she carried herself despite looking so small in the grand dining room.
Clara remained seated by the door for nearly an hour, waiting. Hunger clawed harder. When Brandon Pierce, lounging arrogantly across from Julia, finally spotted her, his grin widened like a predator scenting prey.
“Who’s that?” Brandon drawled.
Julia stiffened. “Don’t mind her honey. She’s my stepsister.”
Brandon’s grin deepened. “Invite her” he drawled, already beckoning Clara over.
Clara shook her head quickly. “No, I’ll wait—”
But Brandon was already on his feet, stubbornly insisting on escorting her over. “Nonsense. No sister of Julia sits alone when I’m here. Come, join us.” His smile was charming on the surface, but Clara caught the glint of possession in his eyes. Clara reluctantly walked back with him to their table. She knew Margaret and Julia would not be happy about the turn of events, but turning down Brandon Pierce was going to make them even more pissed off.
Julia’s jaw clenched, but she dared not contradict him. “Clara,” she hissed, “don’t embarrass me.”
Clara hesitated, her pride screaming against it, but her stomach ached, and the scent of roasted duck and garlic butter filled the air. Brandon patted the chair beside him with lazy insistence. Finally, Clara slipped into the seat, cheeks burning at her plain work clothes against Julia’s gleaming gown.
Adrian’s eyes narrowed from his corner.
The meal passed tensely. Julia preened under Brandon’s casual touches while Clara kept her gaze on her plate, eating slowly, silently. Brandon, however, kept watching her, his eyes lingering too long.
When Julia excused herself, tipsy and giggling, to the restroom, Clara reached for her water glass. That was when Brandon’s hand shot out, brushing against her thighs deliberately, his fingers skimming the edges of her gown.
She froze.
“You know, you’re way prettier than Julia,” he murmured, leaning close. His breath reeked faintly of whiskey. “Let’s be friends hmm.”
Clara flung his hands away. “Please don’t.”
But he only smirked. “Don’t be shy. You wanted to come here, didn’t you?” His hand caught her wrist, squeezing.
Panic shot through her. She tried to pull free, but he was stronger, leaning closer. “One kiss. No one has to know.”
“Stop it—leave me alone.” Her voice cracked as he, half rising, forced her back against the chair, his other hand caressing her thighs once more. His fingers dug into her wrist, bruising. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, feel the press of his body hemming her in. The room tilted with panic.
And then, her world shifted—Brandon’s body was ripped back, a fist cracked against his jaw, and Clara was free.
Brandon staggered, cursing as his chair toppled.
Clara gasped, heart hammering. “Ethan?! What are you doing here?”
Adrian loomed, eyes glacial, his jaw set. “Touch her again,” he growled at Brandon Pierce, “and I’ll break more than your jaw.”
The restaurant fell silent, gasps rippling as patrons turned to stare.
Julia returned just in time to see Brandon wiping blood from his lip. “What’s going on here?”
“She—” Brandon pointed at Clara, voice rising. “Your idiot of a sister tried to seduce me. I pushed her off. That’s when this lunatic attacked me.”
Julia’s face drained, then hardened into rage. “You stupid, pathetic—” She spun on Clara, her hand raised to strike.
Adrian caught her wrist mid-air, his grip iron. “Don’t you dare!”
Julia shrieked, jerking free, then in her fury, she grabbed a glass of wine and threw it—splattering crimson across Adrian’s shirt. More gasps echoed. Adrian didn’t flinch, but his gaze cut like steel.
Brandon stormed out, tossing Julia aside like trash. “I can’t believe I let myself be humiliated like this. We’re done Julia. It’s over between us. Don’t ever call me again.”
Julia’s world shattered in that instant. She rounded on Clara with venom. “This is your fault! You’ve ruined everything! You’ve destroyed the only good thing this family had—I had-—-and you’ll pay for it dearly.”
Clara trembled but held her tongue, gathering their things. She rushed after Julia, sparing Ethan a glance of apology. She drove Julia home in silence, her stepsister’s shrill accusations echoing the whole way.
At the house, Margaret was waiting. The news had already reached her.
“Out,” she hissed, pointing at Clara. “Get out of my house. You destroy everything you touch. I’ll not have you ruining Julia’s life too.”
Clara begged and pleaded, tears choking her throat, but Margaret’s face was stone. Her father, Gerald Bennett, emerged briefly from his study, glanced at her tear-streaked face, then looked away. “Don’t look at me Clara, Margaret’s right. You can’t stay here anymore. You’re old enough to fend for yourself. Consider this…your independence.”
Her knees buckled. He was her last hope.
Margaret wasted no time in pushing her out. “I’ll not have your filth under my roof for one second longer. Pack your rags and get out.” Her clothes, her sketches, and the meagre belongings she had were thrown outside the yard.
This was it. Her family never loved her but atleast she had a roof over her head.
Now, she was officially homeless.
---
That night, Clara wandered to CGE, numb, her heart hollow. She tried curling up in a dark corner of the office lobby, exhaustion swallowing her.
Unknowing to her, the hidden cameras Adrian planted caught her.
Minutes later, he appeared, his footsteps soft but sure. “Clara?”
She startled awake, eyes wide. “Ethan! What are you doing here?”
“I should be asking you that question Clara. You’re sleeping at the office?”
”I—I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go—”
“Come with me.” His voice was firm, no argument tolerated.
Adrian took Clara to his shabby apartment, the one he kept for his Ethan Hayes persona. Looking at the single couch, creaking bed and peeling walls, he was a bit ashamed that Daniel had gone so far to make the place fit his disguise.
Clara blinked at the simple space, overwhelmed that even here, he offered her sanctuary.
“You take the bed,” he said gruffly. “I’ll manage the couch.”
Her throat tightened. “I can’t—”
“You can and you will.” Still in her office attire, she looked so worn out. He knew she was barely holding on to consciousness. His voice softened. “Rest Clara. We can figure things out tomorrow.”
That night, Adrian lay on the lumpy couch, listening to her soft breathing on the bed, and for the first time in years, he felt… at peace.
-----
The next morning, Clara emerged, hair tousled, eyes still swollen from tears, but there was a fragile softness about her. She looked at Ethan sleeping on the couch that had surely seen better days. Walking to his side, Clara leaned down, and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Ethan,” she whispered.
His heart jolted.
Ethan didn’t move, didn’t breathe, as she pulled back, probably embarrassed.
He only opened his eyes when she had stepped into the small bathroom. Something dangerous had already taken root in his chest.
---
Adrian the CEO returned with a vengeance the next day. Brandon Pierce was arrested on charges of attempted assault—the CCTV footage from La Vienne (conveniently “leaked”) damning him.The face of the lady involved was conveniently blurred, though all viewers could clearly see her attempts at resisting him. The story splashed across tabloids: PIERCE HEIR DISGRACED IN ASSAULT SCANDAL.
The public apology the Pierce family gave did nothing to mitigate the situation. By nightfall, whispers of bankruptcy shook the Pierce family as Adrian bought out their crumbling shares through shadow companies, dismantling their empire piece by piece. By dawn, Brandon’s name was ash. Adrian Cole, unseen hand of the city, had snapped the Pierce empire like a twig.
The world watched Brandon Pierce fall.
Adrian relished it.
-----
Meanwhile, Clara struggled at CGE. She was still in shock over the media backlash Pierce was facing. It was even more crazy that none could figure out that she was the lady in the video. She had already received threatening calls from Margaret and Julia, though like she’d honestly told them, she didn’t know who had a vendetta and was hell bent on destroying Brandon Pierce. On the office front, she continued to weather Vanessa’s attacks which had intensified in the last few days. Vanessa constantly humiliated her in public and overburdened her with workload that made Clara stay back for hours after her colleagues had all gone home. Clara nearly broke, her spirit fraying under the weight.
One night, Adrian found her in the office, head bowed over her desk, silent tears staining her papers. He simply sat beside her.
“My mother died when I was eight,” he said quietly. Clara lifted her head, startled by the rawness in Ethan’s tone.
“I had no one, she was the only person that ever loved me. I learnt early that I had to make the world bend or it would have broken me.” He paused, his eyes shadowed. “So I made it bend.”
Clara’s heart ached. She saw, for the first time, not just a poor man surviving, but someone carrying wounds deeper than her own. For a moment, she could glimpse the boy he had been, lost in a world too cruel for a child.
She reached across, hesitating, then laid her hand over his. “You’re not alone anymore Ethan.”
“Yes Clara, now we have each other. I’ll do everything in my power to protect you.” Adrian swallowed hard, his chest tightening with something he had spent a lifetime rejecting.
There was no denying it anymore. He was in love with Clara Bennett.
-----
The next week, a surprising announcement shook the office at CGE. Her name, Clara Bennett stood printed under the official memo. She had been assigned directly to the CEO’s office. Gasps filled the floor, but Clara only stood frozen, heart pounding. Their elusive CEO, Adrian Cole had conscripted her, of all people, to lead a cultural showcase project, reporting directly to the top floor. Vanessa’s claws could no longer touch her.
Clara stood in stunned silence, unaware of the hand that was steadily shifting her fate.
And Adrian, watching from behind the glass walls of his empire, clenched his jaw. Because the closer she came to him, the harder it’d be to keep the truth hidden.