Chapter 170

Alexander's piercing gaze turned glacial. "Lucas, you've gone too far!" His voice cut through the air like a blade.

It was the middle of a workday. What would the staff think if they saw Lucas barging into Evelyn's office like this?

Lucas's face was ashen. "Alexander, what am I supposed to do? You know how I feel about Claire. I love her—so why would she terminate the pregnancy and file for divorce?" His words trembled with raw anguish.

Why?

Because you took her for granted when she was yours.

Now that she's gone, the pain is unbearable. Only in losing her do you realize what you've lost.

Alexander bit back the words. As a friend, he wouldn't twist the knife deeper.

He pulled out a cigarette, the flame flickering as he lit it. Smoke curled around him, sharpening the hard lines of his jaw. "How's Isabella handling this?"

Lucas exhaled shakily. "I don't know."

The days passed without another glimpse of Isabella.

Lucas used to cross paths with her frequently, but only because she had once saved his life.

Isabella came from humble beginnings. Her parents struggled to raise four children, with her being the third daughter.

In a family like that, she had learned early not to expect handouts. Survival meant carving her own path.

Cresthaven was a city where connections meant everything.

Back then, he had asked her, "You saved me. What do you want in return?"

Lucas had assumed she would name a price—money, a favor, something tangible. But instead, she had simply smiled and said, "Lucas, if I demand something, doesn’t that make me just another opportunist? How about this—just let me tag along when you go out with your friends. I’d like to see more of the world."

At the time, it had seemed like such a small request.

Now, looking back, he realized how calculated it had been. His circle was the most exclusive in Cresthaven.

Over the years, Isabella had undoubtedly used her proximity to him to climb higher.

Take her position as lead dancer, for example. Lucas had seen her perform. She wasn’t bad—but she was nowhere near as talented as Claire.

There were far more talented dancers in the company, yet Isabella had maintained her lead role for years. How?

The realization hit him like a slap. How had he been so blind?

Alexander exhaled sharply, smoke curling from his lips. "As your friend, I'm telling you—let her go. Clean break."

"Let her go?" Lucas's voice cracked. "After everything I've done to Claire? She just lost our child. If I divorce her now, what does that make me?"

"So what's your plan? Dragging this out indefinitely?"

"I need to see her. I'll do anything—take care of her, beg for forgiveness. I'll help her recover, even if it means groveling."

Evelyn, who'd been lingering by the doorway, stepped inside.

"Willowbrook Apartments, Penthouse A. That's where she is," she said flatly.

Lucas didn’t rush to Claire immediately.

First, he went home. He showered, changed into fresh clothes, meticulously shaved.

He scrutinized his reflection, adjusting his collar until satisfied. Only then did he drive to Willowbrook, knuckles white on the steering wheel.

The elevator doors slid open, revealing the penthouse floor. Lucas Bennett hesitated before stepping out, his fingers hovering over the doorbell.

Then he saw it—a handwritten note taped to the door.

"Sleeping. Do Not Disturb."

Claire’s neat script was unmistakable.

Lucas withdrew his hand, shoving it into his pocket instead. He moved to the floor-to-ceiling window, pulling out a cigarette. The lighter flickered to life, casting a brief glow over his sharp features.

Minutes stretched into hours. The ashtray beside him filled with crushed cigarette butts.

Three hours.

Silence.

No movement from inside.

A frown creased his brow. Was this even her place?

His gaze shifted to the keypad lock. A memory surfaced—Claire always used his birthday for everything. Her terrible memory made it the only way she could remember.

His fingers moved automatically, inputting the numbers.

Beep.

Incorrect Password.

Lucas froze.

His chest tightened.

Something cold settled in his stomach.