An increasing volume of vile, malicious gossip began to circulate through the student and faculty networks, and my suspension from the academy was extended indefinitely.

Night fell.

Inside the empty, echoing bedroom, a bottle of medication sat on the bedside table—opened multiple times but completely untouched. I sat curled on the mattress, hugging my knees as I stared into the dark.

I didn't dare close my eyes, because the moment I slept, my dreams were consumed entirely by the imagery of Ethan and my mother turning their backs on me and walking away without a single backward glance.

The burning ache in my eyes swelled into a throbbing pressure, and I buried my face in my knees to hide my pathetic state.

Suddenly, the distinct sound of the front door opening downstairs broke the silence.

I snapped my head up instantly. Had Ethan finally come home?

Wiping the tears from the corners of my eyes, I scrambled out of bed and rushed downstairs.

But the moment I reached the landing, the sight below froze me in my tracks. Melanie was half-supporting, half-clinging to an explicitly intoxicated Ethan as they collapsed together onto the living room sofa.

She spoke to him with a familiar, fluid intimacy, completely ignoring the fact that they were in my home: "Next time, you don't need to step in and drink so much on my behalf. As long as you're by my side, it doesn't matter even if I get completely drunk."

Hearing those words, a pain like a physical stake driven through my chest flared within me.

Unable to endure it for another second, I tightened my fists and walked directly over to the sofa. "Thank you for bringing my husband home. I can take care of him from here."

With those words, Melanie straightened her posture, intentionally lifting a hand to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

Under the glare of the chandelier, the brilliant sparkle of the diamond ring resting on her finger turned my face a ghostly, bloodless white.

My mind instantly flashed back to the delivery boutique package that had arrived at the house days ago. Had Ethan already proposed to Melanie? But he and I hadn't even finalized the divorce yet.

Seeing my reaction, the corners of Melanie's lips curved into a smug, mocking smirk as she tossed out a careless remark, "Then I'll leave him in your hands, Miss Clara."

With that, she turned on her heel and glided out of the house.

The front door clicked shut, leaving only the two of them in the massive, quiet house.

Forcing down the crushing defeat Melanie had ignited within me, I stepped forward, intending to support Ethan and help him upstairs to the bedroom.

Yet, the exact moment my hands made contact with his shoulders, his hand shot out, catching my wrist in a vice-like grip and spinning me around.

"Ethan..."

Before I could even register the expression on his face, I was pushed back onto the cushions of the sofa, his burning, heavy frame instantly pinning me down through our clothing.

A flurry of hot, frantic kisses began to rain down upon my skin, traveling up from the curve of my neck, mapping my jawline, before ultimately capturing my lips.

The bruising friction of his mouth, combined with the rich, intoxicating aroma of rum radiating from him, shot through my skin like an electric current, flooding my brain and causing me to slowly surrender to the sensation.

But the vivid image of Melanie, who had only just departed seconds ago, suddenly flashed across my mind, causing my heart to constrict in a sudden spasm of terror.

Throughout our entire four years of marriage, no matter how passionate or intensely driven our encounters became, Ethan had never once kissed me on the lips.

Was he only doing this now because he mistook me for Melanie?

Swallowing down the scalding bitterness rising in my throat, I forcefully twisted my head to the side, gasping for air, "I am Clara."

Ethan's frantic movements stiffened for a fraction of a second, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly rasp: "I know."

Chapter 7

I froze.

The moment his arms clamped around my waist, a jolt of panic snapped me back to reality. Protecting my stomach, I instinctively pushed against Ethan's chest.

Facing his sharp, frozen glare, I stared into his deep, smoldering eyes, my voice trembling as I explained, "I don't feel well. I just came back from the hospital. Can we... please wait a little?"

Ethan's eyes darkened instantly. Clara had never once rejected him.

She went to the hospital, and suddenly she didn't want him anymore?

The hand locked around my waist slid downward, his hot, slender fingers boldly teasing, sparking a heat that made me helplessly tilt my neck back and let out a soft whine.

"Not feeling well?"

The man abruptly withdrew his slick fingers, leaning over to bite the tip of my ear gently, his tone teasing yet thick with heavy implication. "Since when did Miss Clara learn how to play hard to get?"

His gaze grew increasingly predatory, a wolfish desire flaring in his eyes, demanding absolute submission.

And tonight, I was the prize he intended to take.

As my clothes were stripped away, more and more feverish marks were pressed onto my collarbone.

My breathing turned erratic, and the hands resting on his shoulders slowly tightened.

I couldn't understand why Ethan was so desperately impatient tonight.

I couldn't escape him.

But I absolutely could not allow any harm to come to the baby...

In the next second, meeting his dominant gaze, I hooked my leg around his frame and flipped over, straddling his lap.

Lifting my misty, reddened eyes, I put on a seductive, pleading act, whispering softly, "Honey... let me be in control tonight."

Outside the window, the winter snow fell without a sound.

Inside the massive living room, only the sound of two heavy, ragged breaths echoed in the quiet.

I fought to summon the mental image of Ethan loving me, leaning down to mimic him as I pressed my lips against his Adam's apple, trailing downward.

My clumsy, amateur attempts at seduction shattered his absolute dominance for the very first time. His breathing turned urgent as he tilted his hips up to meet me, preparing to capture my mouth.

But beneath the glare of the chandelier, he caught sight of the heavy tears swimming in my eyes, my delicate features completely fractured with grief.

The burning heat pooling in his gut was instantly doused in ice water.

After a long, suffocating silence, Ethan violently pushed me away, his expression freezing over as he began fastening his shirt buttons.

Collapsing back onto the sofa, I stared at him in utter shock. "You..."

Ethan stood up, towering over me. "I am not pathetic enough to force myself on a woman."

Looking down from his height, the remaining trace of intoxication in his eyes was entirely replaced by an icy detachment. "Since you are so thoroughly unwilling, make sure you show up at the civil affairs bureau within seven days to finalize the divorce."

Hearing those words, my pupils dilated in absolute terror.

Ethan turned and walked out without looking back, leaving me entirely alone in the empty house once more.

Clutching a throw pillow tightly to my chest, I stared out at the hollow, pitch-black night, wondering blankly: if I could be even half as clinical and decisive as Ethan, would my heart not ache this badly right now...

It was yet another entirely sleepless night.

By eight o'clock the following morning, I received my official termination notice from the academy.

Over the line, the Principal's voice was heavy with explicit blame. "I am fully aware that you are an excellent educator, Clara, but Mr. Ethan made it clear that we cannot employ a teacher with a compromised moral character. Please seek employment elsewhere."

With that final remark, he disconnected the call.

I let my hand drop, lowering the phone as a bitter sorrow etched itself across my features.

Ethan was far more ruthless and merciless than I had ever imagined.

Perhaps affected by the intense emotional turmoil, a sudden discomfort flared within my lower abdomen. Terrified for the safety of the child, I quickly changed my clothes and rushed back to the hospital.

...

Three hours later.

I stepped out of the OB-GYN clinic, immediately spotting Julian standing near the entrance, looking as though he had been waiting for a very long time.

He walked over to me, pulling a small medicine bottle from his lab coat pocket and extending it toward me. "I had a colleague source this ALS treatment medication from abroad. Rest assured, it is entirely safe for the fetus."

Desperately needing it, I took it from him without a single moment of hesitation. "Thank you..."

As we walked down the corridor together, a sharp gust of wind swept through the open window at the corner, causing me to erupt into a violent fit of coughing.