Chapter 3 - The Death of a Contract
Roman looked down at Nolan Whitmore with chilling finality, his eyes entirely devoid of mercy.
"No misunderstanding, Nolan," Roman said softly, his voice echoing across the silent marble floor. "Effective tonight, every commercial contract your family holds with my firms is dead. By midnight, your credit lines will be frozen."
Nolan dropped to his knees right there on the dark marble floor, clutching his head in utter despair. "Mr. Raines, that will destroy my family’s firm! We’ll be bankrupt by morning!"
Sloane stood frozen in sheer horror, realizing her single act of arrogant cruelty had just ruined her family's entire fortune in a matter of seconds. But as the security guards stepped forward to escort Sloane and Nolan out of the grand hotel, Clara raised her hand to stop them.
"Wait," Clara called out calmly, holding Roman’s tuxedo jacket securely around her shredded dress.
She stepped toward Sloane, her eyes cold, steady, and filled with unbroken strength.
"Sloane called me a waitress," Clara said, addressing the hundreds of wealthy patrons watching from the golden balconies. "And she was right. Three months ago, I was working double shifts at a diner in the Loop to pay off my father's medical bills."
The crowd murmured in confusion. Why was the wife of the city’s most feared man proudly admitting her humble background in front of high society?
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Clara turned her gaze straight to Sloane. "But what Sloane doesn't know is why I was at that diner in the first place."
👉 Keep reading to learn the hidden reason behind Clara's secret life.
