Chapter 356

Claire's voice trembled as she nearly screamed those final words.

The moment they left her lips, the air in the room turned thick with tension.

Lucas's eyes burned crimson, while Julian stood frozen, his expression unreadable.

Lucas's arm dropped to his side, lifeless.

The fire in his gaze dimmed, as though his soul had been extinguished in a single breath.

He turned stiffly, like a statue carved from grief.

"I won't touch him again. You can stop loving me, but just... don't hate me, Claire. Please."

The man who had always carried himself with unshakable pride now sounded broken, his voice raw with desperation.

When Lucas first discovered Claire hadn't ended the pregnancy, his heart had soared with hope.

But never—not even in his darkest nightmares—had he imagined the child might belong to Julian.

It was as if the universe had twisted the knife deeper, laughing at his suffering.

Julian wiped at his split lip, blood smearing his fingers. Lucas's knuckles were bruised, the pain nothing compared to the agony in his chest.

Lucas Bennett rose abruptly, turning his back. "This conversation isn't over."

His thoughts were a tangled mess, and he desperately needed space to breathe.

Without another word, Lucas stormed out.

Claire Dawson remained silent. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, she retreated into her bedroom, locking herself away.

Julian Mercer quietly straightened the living room, the muffled sound of weeping seeping through the closed door.

A cold realization settled in his chest—Claire didn’t love him.

Her tears weren’t for him. They were for Lucas, for the irreversible fracture between them.

Some wounds ran too deep to heal.

Meanwhile, at Whitmore Manor, Evelyn Carter finished dinner alone. Alexander still hadn’t returned.

Vanessa Hart watched her from across the table, then discreetly signaled a maid to arrange a private meeting.

Evelyn’s instincts flared. Nothing good ever came from Vanessa’s summons.

With Vanessa now pregnant and coddled by the entire household, Evelyn refused to be blamed if anything went wrong.

She’d been burned too many times before.

So when the maid approached, Evelyn shook her head. "Not tonight."

The evening air was crisp as Evelyn wandered through the manicured gardens of Whitmore Manor, hoping the stroll would ease the heaviness of dinner.

Then, without warning, Vanessa materialized from the shadows ahead.

Evelyn’s breath hitched. The sudden appearance sent a jolt of alarm through her.

Instinctively, she retreated two paces, putting a deliberate nine feet between them.

Vanessa smirked, taking a step forward.

"Don’t." Evelyn’s voice was sharp, her hand raised in warning. "If you have something to say, say it from there."

Vanessa tilted her head, fingers resting lightly on her rounded stomach. "Nervous? Relax. This baby is my only leverage. I wouldn’t waste it on you."

Evelyn scoffed, her gaze icy. Trusting Vanessa was like trusting a snake not to strike.

She positioned herself strategically at the intersection of two paths—close enough to the main walkway that passing staff could witness anything, yet with multiple escape routes.

"Evelyn," Vanessa purred, "wasn’t marrying Alexander enough? Or do you still crave Ethan too? Maybe you’re greedy enough to want both." Her smile turned venomous. "Why did you humiliate me in front of him? You—"

The accusation hung in the air, sharp as a blade.

Evelyn’s fingers curled into her palms. The garden, once serene, now thrummed with tension.

Vanessa wasn’t here to talk.

She was here to play.

And Evelyn refused to be her pawn.

The air between us crackled with tension as I faced Vanessa across the room. Her wide, accusing eyes burned with fury, but I refused to back down.

"First of all," I said, my voice steady, "Damian came forward on his own. I didn’t send him."

A bitter laugh escaped my lips as I continued. "And even if I had, I’d only be returning the favor—using the same tactics you’ve perfected against me."

My fingers curled into fists at my sides. "Vanessa, why do you always play the victim? You act like you’ve never done anything wrong."

Her lips parted, but I didn’t give her the chance to interrupt.

"Let’s not forget—you were the one who sought out Damian. I didn’t force you into his arms." My tone sharpened. "So don’t you dare blame me for your choices."

The weight of years of betrayal pressed down on me, and I exhaled slowly.

"If you really want to settle accounts," I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "then let’s go over everything."

I took a step forward, watching as she stiffened.

"Your mother stole me away just so you could live in luxury. Three years ago, you conspired with Damian to frame me—to have me thrown into prison like a criminal."

My chest tightened with the memory of cold prison walls and endless nights of despair.

"Every single one of these debts, Vanessa," I said, my voice trembling with barely contained rage, "is something you owe me."

Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating.

For the first time, I saw a flicker of fear in her eyes.

And I relished it.