Chapter 8 - The Desperate Mask
Ethan’s hands began to shake as he read the message from his CFO. The entire Vance fortune—his prestige, his authority, his lifestyle—was built on the backbone of the trust fund managed by Claire’s late father. Without that capital, his firm was millions of dollars in debt.
He looked back at Claire, his face instantly shifting from cold arrogance to a pathetic, desperate mask of devotion.
"Claire... darling, listen to me," Ethan stammered, stepping closer to the bed and trying to take her hand. "You misunderstood what happened! I wasn't denying you care. I was just... I was trying to calm Serena down first because she was hysterical. I knew Dr. Reynolds was close by!"
Claire looked down at his hand touching hers, then looked up into his eyes with pure disgust. She didn't scream. She didn't even raise her voice.
"You told me our baby's life could wait thirty minutes," Claire said softly. "You unclasped my hand while I was bleeding on this bed and walked out to comfort another woman."
"I made a mistake!" Ethan pleaded, falling to one knee beside the bed, completely ignoring the nurses and doctors who were quietly working around them, watching the disgrace of the city's proudest socialite. "I was stressed! Please, Claire, think about our daughter! We are a family!"
"We were a family," Claire corrected, her voice ice-cold. "Until five minutes ago."
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At that moment, the door pushed open again. Two tall men in dark charcoal suits entered the room, carrying leather briefcases. Behind them was Arthur Vance—Ethan’s father—looking red-faced and breathing heavily.
👉 What devastating blow has Ethan's own family come to deliver?
