"The Silence of the Dawn" Chapter 10
Julian chose a quiet seat by the window and picked up the menu. "I remember you used to love drinking..."
"An Americano. No sugar, no milk."
Clara interrupted him expressionlessly. "Say whatever you have to say."
"If you ever show up in front of my daughter or my husband’s grave again, I will call the police immediately."
Hearing her icy tone, Julian felt a blunt pain in his chest.
He put down the menu and spoke with difficulty. "I don't mean to threaten you. I just wanted to have a proper talk."
He paused, looking at the hurried passersby outside the window, and asked softly:
"That Ethan Jiang... was he good to you?"
Clara’s tone darkened. "Since you were able to find my station and know my daughter’s name, you must have already investigated everything I’ve been through these years!"
Julian instinctively clenched his fists. "I was just so desperate to know if you were doing well."
"I didn't expect... that you would actually marry him."
He looked up, his eyes filled with complex emotions. "I thought you..."
Chapter 14
"You thought I would never believe in love again, didn't you?"
Seeing Julian’s hesitant manner, Clara suddenly laughed.
There was a sense of release in that smile, along with a touch of faint mockery.
"But the truth is, the only thing I stopped believing in was certain people."
She picked up her coffee and took a small sip.
"In the past, I didn't believe in the idea of 'soulmates.' I thought it was just your excuse for getting tired of me."
"It wasn't until I met Ethan that I understood—soulmates are real."
Her voice was perfectly calm, yet it was like a sharp blade plunging deep into Julian’s heart.
Julian’s body trembled uncontrollably. "Is this how you felt when you heard those words back then?"
He suddenly remembered the scene eight years ago when he told Clara Vance that "Melody is my soulmate."
At that time, her face had turned deathly pale and her lips trembled; she couldn't say a single word.
Now he understood.
So this was the pain of having your entire worth denied by the person you cared about most.
His soul seemed to inhabit the Clara of the past, yet he felt this piercing agony was not even a thousandth of what she had endured back then.
Because he hadn't just hurt her once.
He had cheated, betrayed her, forced her to abort their child, kicked her out of the house, and watched as she was beaten half to death...
How could he have the right to speak of pain?
Looking at his tormented state, Clara felt no joy or sympathy—only a calm, desolate emptiness.
"I hope this pain makes you realize that there is no medicine for regret in this world. One cannot win back a person simply through repentance."
She set down her coffee cup. "Stop disturbing me."
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"The Clara Vance of the past wouldn't forgive you, and the Clara Wynter of today certainly won't."
"Instead of wasting time pestering me, you should spend more time with Melody Sterling. After all—"
She paused, her gaze landing on his bare ring finger. "You chose this marriage yourself."
Julian’s fingers tightened abruptly.
He had intentionally left his wedding ring at home when he went out today.
He hadn't expected Clara to notice.
"Between me and her..."
He wanted to explain, but found there was nothing to explain.
Was he supposed to say, "She and I are bound by interests, we torture each other, it's a living hell"?
But wasn't all of this his own doing?
"Goodbye, Mr. Vance."
Clara pushed her wheelchair and left the coffee shop.
This time, Julian did not chase after her.
He sat there, watching her figure disappear around the corner, and suddenly covered his face, weeping like a child.
Clara thought that after this conversation, her life would gradually return to peace.
She submitted her application for a transfer to a branch office and began organizing her things, preparing to welcome a new life.
However, three days later in the afternoon, Melody Sterling suddenly showed up at the radio station.
Eight years had passed, and she had changed a lot.
Although she wore sunglasses, exquisite makeup, a Chanel suit, and carried a Birkin bag, the downward curve of her lips betrayed her exhausted nerves.
When their eyes met, Melody’s gaze instantly became sharp.
She walked over step by step in her high heels.
She scrutinized Clara like she was inspecting merchandise—from her legs in the wheelchair to the scars on her wrists and her plain face.
Then, Melody forced a sarcastic smile:
"Even in this crippled state, you're still thinking of ruining my marriage? Do you really think you're worthy?!"
As she spoke, she rubbed her stomach and lifted her chin high, saying triumphantly:
"Let me tell you! It is absolutely impossible for him to divorce me. I’m already pregnant, and there are inseparable business interests between us. You might as well give up!"
Before Clara could speak, Jane, the producer standing nearby, couldn't listen any longer.
She stepped forward and shielded Clara, her tone stern:
"Miss, not just anyone can walk into this station. Do not talk nonsense here!"
"We all know what kind of person Clara is. It is absolutely impossible for her to be a mistress or ruin someone else's family!"
Other colleagues chimed in as well.
After working together for several years, they knew Clara was a gentle and resilient person. They had also seen how much she and her husband loved each other.
Even though Ethan Jiang had passed away, his photo was always on Clara’s desk, and she would take leave to visit his grave on every anniversary of his death.
How could someone like her ever be a mistress?
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Melody let out a cold laugh and pulled a stack of photos from her bag, slamming them violently onto the floor.
Chapter 15
The photos scattered, and several slid right next to Clara’s wheelchair.
She looked down and saw the scene of Julian pushing her over the speed bump that morning, as well as the images of them meeting at the coffee shop.
"These are photos taken by a private investigator!"
Melody glared and said harshly, "Don't be fooled by this woman's crippled state and her weak act. She has quite the repertoire when it comes to seducing men!"
"She ruined someone else's relationship in the past, and now she's trying to ruin a marriage. She's just a slut!"
In truth, the photos only showed Clara and Julian having a normal conversation.
One was pushing a wheelchair, one was sitting in it; one was speaking, one was listening.
But with Melody’s commentary, it appeared exceptionally scandalous.
The colleagues' expressions changed, and they looked at Clara in confusion.
Clara glanced casually at the photos, a smirk appearing on her lips.
"Melody Sterling, your tactics have worsened quite a bit compared to eight years ago."
"Melody Sterling?" a colleague whispered. "Isn't that the person from the radio story?"
"Is it a coincidence they have the same name? And Clara seems to have changed her name before..."
Discussions broke out instantly, and all sorts of gazes fell upon Clara and Melody.
Clara knew the truth could no longer be hidden.
Taking a deep breath, she moved her wheelchair forward a step and said clearly:
"That’s right. I am the Clara Vance from the story."
Everyone froze, including Melody.
She hadn't expected Clara to admit it so bluntly.
Clara looked at Melody with a mocking smile:
"To me, Julian Vance is nothing more than trash I threw away long ago. I don't think any sane person would go back and dig through the trash!"
"As his wife, you should keep a better eye on him and stop him from harassing me!"
As soon as these words were spoken, a deathly silence fell over the scene, followed by an uproar!
"Oh my god... Clara is actually the female lead..."
"No wonder she has so many scars and is in a wheelchair..."
"So everything she went through was real... that's too tragic..."
Everyone present except Melody looked at Clara with pity, while their gazes toward Melody became hostile.
"When she’s the mistress herself, how does she have the nerve to show up here!"
"She really is rotten to the core! She interfered in someone else's relationship before, and now she’s here to slander her!"
"Weren't they supposed to be 'soulmates' and 'true love'? Why can't she even keep track of her own man? How pathetic and hateful!"
None of the people working at a radio station were slow-witted; every word they spoke cut to the bone.
Melody was trembling with rage, her fists clenched so tightly that her nails dug deep into her palms.
She could feel the stinging pain in her hands, but it was nothing compared to the shame and resentment in her heart.
The outside world said that she and Julian were a perfect match, a model of a high-society marriage.
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