Chapter 48
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ADRIAN sat behind his desk, his hands clasped together tightly, his jaw set in an unyielding line. The blinds in his office were drawn halfway, strips of light cutting across the expensive wooden table. He had been waiting for this moment since dawn, the fury boiling in his veins demanding an outlet. When the door opened and Claire stepped inside, head held high and lips curved in a mocking half-stile, Adrian rose to his feet.
“Sit,” he said flatly, pointing at the chair across from him.
Claire scoffed, folding her arms.
“What, no warm greetings? No tea for your darling sister-in-law p>
“Sit down, Claire.” His voice was sharp now, leaving no room for her usual theatrics.
She arched a brow but finally lowered herself into the seat, crossing one leg over the other with deliberate
arrogance.
“Fine. I’m here. What is the big emergency p>
Adrian leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.
“You tell me. Why the hell did you break into Vivian’s house in the middle of the night? Why take armed men with you like some petty criminal p>
Claire’s smirk widened.
“Oh, so she ran crying to you, did she? I should have known. The little snake knows exactly where to slither when she wants protection p>
“Protection?” Adrian’s voice thundered now, his fist slamming the desk hard enough to make her flinch. “You threatened her life, Claire. Do you even realize the gravity of what you have done? Walking into her bedroom with a gun pointed at her? You are lucky she didn’t collapse from the shock p>
Claire’s composure cracked for just a moment, but she quickly regained it.
“Don’t play the hero, Adrian. I only told her the truth, that what she is carrying is poison. A mistake. She should get rid of it before it ruins her life… and yours too p>
Adrian’s eyes blazed.
“You don’t get to decide that. You don’t get to barge into someone’s home like a thief and terrorize them. I don’t care what excuse you think you have, it ends now. Never, and I mean never try that again p>
She gave a sharp, mocking laugh.
“Listen to you, acting all high and mighty. You know, Adrian, I really used to think you were perfect. My mother would never stop singing your praises, Adrian this, Adrian hat. The perfect husband, the flawless businessman, the golden son-in-law. But now? Now I see you for what you really are p>
He frowned, his tone cold.
“And what is that supposed to mean p>
Claire leaned forward, her face twisted with disdain.
“A dog. That is what you are. Tueh!” She spat the word like venom, her contempt filling the room. “A dog that couldn’t keep his home in order, a dog that runs after a mistress while his wife sits at home looking like a fool. That is the real Adrian Cole p>
Adrian’s chest rose and fell sharply, his fury barely contained.
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“Watch your tongue, Claire. I’m warning you p>
“What will you do?” she taunted, standing now, her eyes gttering with defiance, “Threaten me? Shout at me like you are shouting at your board members? You can’t scare, Adrian. You have already destroyed Amelia, and now you want to protect that tramp? Please. You are pathetic p>
Adrian stood too, towering over her, his voice low but letha
“I will not allow you or anyone, to threaten Vivian again. You hear me, Claire? If you try it, you won’t just deal with me, you will deal with the law. Do not test me p>
For a moment, the room was thick with silence, her breath harp, his steady and dangerous. Then she gave a bitter laugh, shaking her head.
“So this is who you are now. A man ready to fight his own family for a mistress. Disgusting p>
Without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and stormed toward the door.
“Don’t worry, Adrian,” she threw over her shoulder. “You will regret this. Mark my words.” The door slammed behind her.
The office fell into a tense silence. Adrian exhaled, his fists still clenched, the rage not fully leaving his system. He turned to sink back into his chair, but before he could, the door creaked open again.
Peter stepped inside cautiously, his eyes darting around as if reading the tension still lingering in the air.
“Sir… is everything alright? I heard raised voices. That was Claire, wasn’t it p>
Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose, forcing his voice steady.
“It is nothing, Peter. Just a family matter. You don’t need to concern yourself with it p>
Peter hesitated, taking a step forward.
“But, sir, you look p>
“Peter.” Adrian cut him off sharply, his gaze snapping up. I said it is nothing. Leave it p>
The younger man faltered, clearly unconvinced, but he nodded slowly.
“Yes, sir.” He lingered a moment longer, as if wanting to press further, but finally obeyed, retreating toward the door.
As it closed behind him, Adrian sat heavily in his chair, running a hand through his hair. His mind reeled with Claire’s words, the venom, the accusations, the threat that lingered even after she left. His reflection in the glass wall looked back at him: not perfect, not golden, but a man at war with his choices, caught between two worlds pulling him apart.
And for the first time in a long while, Adrian wondered if Claire was right, if maybe, he really had become the dog she accused him of being.
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Claire found Amelia at Satin & Sage, tucked into a quiet corer of the office where the scent of fresh linen and coffee hung soft in the air. Amelia sat with an untouched cup beside her, her hands folded around the rim like a prayer. Claire paused at the doorway for a long beat, the weight of what she had done pressed heavy on her chest. She forced a smile and crossed the room.
“How are you holding up?” Claire asked, sliding into the chair opposite, voice almost too gentle for the moment.
Amelia gave a small, brittle laugh.
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“Surviving,” she said. “I haven’t slept properly in ten days The house feels… empty p>
Claire’s eyes softened; remorse flickered across her feature despite herself.
“I’m so sorry, sis. I never thought it would go this far.” Her voice broke in a place she didn’t like to admit, she had goaded, pushed, schemed, fed the fire. She had wanted Adrian unsettled, not to set off an inferno.
Amelia regarded her for a long moment.
“You? Sorry?” she said, a little incredulous. “Claire, you showed up at Vivian’s in the dead of night and terrorized her. You could have gotten yourself arrested. You could have gotten her killed. Why would you do that p>
Claire flinched at the bluntness, and the apology she had rehearsed melted on her tongue.
“I did it for you,” she began haltingly. “I wanted to protect you, wanted to protect your marriage. I thought if she knew I was serious, if I frightened her that she might back off. I didn’t think…” Her voice trailed; the rest drowned
in shame.
“You did it for me?” Amelia echoed, incredulous and raw. “Do you even hear yourself? You could have risked everything, mine, Hazel’s, even Mom’s peace. How could you think that was protection p>
Claire sucked in a breath.
“I know. I know it looks horrible now. I fueled things I know. But I never wanted a baby involved. Not like this,” she almost blurted out the three last statements, but realized too early, and quickly kept mute. “I didn’t think Adrian would even have a mistress let alone get her pregnant. I thought a scare would be enough,” she said instead.
“How did you even… how did you know where she lived? How did you get in?” Amelia’s voice was quieter now, all the anger folded into a different kind of fear, and suspicion.
Claire answered, blunt and oddly defensive.
“I didn’t just guess. I always know my ways.” She tapped the table with two fingers, the admission surprising both of them.
Amelia stared, the color draining from her face.
“You Claire, I-” she paused, and silence followed. Neither of them, willing to break it.
The silence stretched and settled like dust between them. Amelia swallowed.
“So what are you going to do now?” Claire asked finally, voice small.
Amelia looked up, steadying herself.
“I will wait,” she said. “I will have a little patience and see what he does. If he shows remorse, maybe we can… handle it. If not-” She didn’t finish. The rest hung heavy: decisions, consequences, and the knowledge that patience might be the only weapon left for the moment.
Claire nodded slowly.
“Hazel is still at the house,” she reminded her, as if mentioning the child anchored both of them back to something real.
“I know,” Amelia said. “she would remain there while the ension settles. For now p>
Claire stood, turning to leave, but paused at the door.
“Ame… I’m sorry.” The word was small, but it carried a world of regret.
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Amelia watched her go, the apology lingering in the space between them. Their conversation ended there, uneasy, unfinished, each woman holding different kinds of wounds and a fragile plan to see how the next move would go.
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Olivia Harris
Olivia Harris is an emerging author celebrated for her captivating romantic and steamy novels. With a talent for crafting deep emotional connections and fiery chemistry between her characters, Olivia’s stories offer readers an escape into worlds filled with passion, intrigue, and heart-stopping drama.