Chapter 2: Clara
The world loses all its sound. For a second, I think my heart has stopped beating. I stand frozen in the dimly lit hallway, my fingers hovering inches away from the cold mahogany door.
My eyes wide, I look through the narrow crack. The desk lamp casts long, distorted shadows across the room. Adrian’s jacket is thrown carelessly over the back of his leather chair. Vivian is leaning against the edge of his desk, her fingers tangled in his hair, her silk blouse unbuttoned at the collar. Adrian’s hands are on her waist, pulling her closer with a heavy passion I have never seen from him.
The man who just kissed my forehead downstairs, the man who called himself my shield, is kissing another woman.
A wave of nausea hits me so hard I have to press my palm against the wall to keep from collapsing. The rejection from his mother, the venomous words from his sister about my daughter's lineage, none of it compares to the rip in my chest right now. It feels like my soul is being torn in half.
I stop thinking. Before I can stop myself, my hand pushes the door wide open. It bangs against the wall with a loud, echoing thud.
The two of them break apart instantly. Vivian gasps, her eyes widening in mock surprise as she quickly smooths down her skirt and buttons her blouse. Adrian doesn't flinch. He steps back from the desk, his dark eyes locking onto mine.
I wait for the panic. I wait for the excuses, the stuttering, the desperate pleas for forgiveness that any husband caught in a lie would offer.
Nothing comes.
Adrian calmly reaches down, picking up his watch from the desk and strapping it back onto his wrist. His face is cold with indifference. The warmth, the protection he displayed in the ballroom downstairs is all gone. It’s like looking at a stranger.
"Vivian," Adrian says, his voice flat and smooth. "Give us a moment."
"Of course, Mr. Von," Vivian murmurs. She fixes her hair, stepping past me with a small, triumphant smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
The heavy door clicks shut behind her, leaving me alone with my husband.
"How could you?" The words tear from my throat in trembls. I walk toward him, my hands shaking so violently I have to balch them into fists. "How long, Adrian? How long have you been making a fool out of me?"
Adrian walks behind his desk, ignoring my tears. He picks up his tuxedo jacket, slipping it on and adjusting his cuffs with slow movements. He doesn't even look at me.
"Don't raise your voice, Clara," he says, his tone level, as if we are discussing a minor corporate error. "It's unbecoming."
"Unbecoming?" A hysterical laugh bubbles up in my chest. "You were just sleeping with your assistant while I was downstairs taking abuse from your family! Your sister called our daughter a burden, Adrian! She called her bloodline rotten! And I took it because I thought I had you. I thought you loved me!"
Finally, Adrian raises his head. His eyes are colder than ice, devoid of any remorse.
"I protected you downstairs because it is my duty to maintain our public image," he says, stepping around the desk to face me. "What happens in public is business. What happens behind these doors is reality."
"Reality?" I step back, looking at him with horror. "The reality is that you are a liar. You are a monster. I am your wife, Adrian!"
“Leave if you want, Clara,” Adrian sneers suddenly, his patience wearing thin. He adjusts his gold cufflinks one last time, his voice dripping with arrogance. “But let's be realistic. Luna’s medical treatments cost fifty thousand a month. You don't even have a degree. Walk out that door, and let’s see how long our daughter survives without my signature.”
The words hit me like a blow to the stomach. I stumble backward, the breath knocked out of me.
Fifty thousand dollars a month.
That number crashes down on me, crushing the air from my lungs. He knows exactly what he is doing. He is not only cheating but also using my daughter’s failing heart as a padlock to keep me trapped. He knows I have no money. He knows my parents are dead, that I have no family, no savings, and no high-paying career to fall back on. Every single penny that keeps Luna breathing in that private hospital wing comes from his pen.
"You... you wouldn't," I whisper, tears streaming freely down my face. "She is your daughter. You wouldn't cut off her treatment just to punish me."
Adrian takes a step closer, towering over me. The shadows hide the sharp angles of his face, making him look ruthless.
"Try me," he whispers softly, the threat hanging heavy in the quiet office. "I am a businessman, Clara. I don't fund investments that don't yield returns. If you are my compliant wife, Luna gets the best doctors in the country. If you walk out that door, you are an unemployed single mother with a dying child. The hospital will discharge her by tomorrow morning."
I look at him, searching for even a glimmer of the man I loved for five years. But he isn't there. He was never there. The perfect husband was a character he played for the press, a lie designed to keep me grateful and obedient.
"You are a sick man," I choke out, my voice dropping to a whisper.
"I am a practical man," Adrian corrects coldly, walking past me toward the door. "Wash your face. Fix your makeup. We have a press announcement in twenty minutes, and I expect you to be standing by my side with a smile. Don't make me ask twice."
The office door opens and closes. He leaves me standing alone in the dark room.
My knees finally give out. I collapse onto the plush carpet, burying my face in my hands as chest-wracking sobs take over my body. The fabric of my expensive silk dress rubs against my skin, suddenly feeling like sandpaper. Everything in this life is a lie. My marriage, his protection, my safety, it was all an illusion.
But as the initial shock begins to fade, a cold, hard knot forms in the center of my chest.
Adrian thinks he owns me. He thinks because I love Luna, I will let him humiliate me, sleep with his assistant, and force me to smile for the cameras while his family treats me like dirt. He thinks Luna's illness makes me weak.
He is wrong. My love for Luna doesn't make me weak. It makes me dangerous.
I force myself up from the floor. I walk over to the executive bathroom, turning on the cold water. I look at myself in the mirror. My eyes are bloodshot, my mascara is smudged, and my skin is pale. But beneath the tears, there is determination.
I cannot stay here. If I stay, he will slowly chip away at my soul until there is nothing left, and Luna will grow up thinking her mother was a coward. I will not let my daughter's life be bought with his betrayal. I will not let a monster use her heartbeat as leverage.
I grab a paper towel, aggressively wiping the ruined makeup from my face. I take off the heavy diamond necklace he bought me for our anniversary, dropping it into the trash can. It means nothing.
I leave the executive suite through the back service elevator, avoiding the gala. I slip out into the cool night air, the city lights blindingly bright. I hail a standard yellow cab, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"Where to, lady?" the driver asks, looking at me through the rearview mirror.
"The hospital," I say, my voice steadying. "Hurry, please."
Twenty minutes later, I am rushing through the quiet, sterile corridors of the pediatric wing. When I enter Luna’s private room, the soft, rhythmic beeping of her heart monitor fills the space. She looks so small in the hospital bed, her pale face framed by dark curls, a thin oxygen tube resting beneath her nose.
The nanny is asleep on the small armchair in the corner. I gently shake her shoulder.
"Maria," I whisper as she blinks awake. "Pack Luna’s things. We're leaving."
Maria looks at me, bewildered. "Mrs. Von? But the doctors said she needs to stay for observation—"
"We are leaving right now," I cut her off, my tone leaving no room for argument. "Get her clothes. I'll handle the discharge papers."
I look back at my sleeping daughter. My chest tightens with fear, but I swallow it down. I don't know where we are going. I don't know how I am going to afford her medicine, or where we will sleep tonight. All I know is that we have to vanish.
I lean down, gently scooping Luna’s fragile body into my arms. She stirs, her small fingers clutching at the fabric of my coat.
"Mommy?" she murmurs sleepily, her voice tiny. "Where are we going?"
"We're going on an adventure, sweetie," I whisper, kissing her warm forehead as I walk out of the room, leaving the Von family legacy behind in the dark. "Just you and me."