Chapter 4

Clara's POV

The pungent stench of antiseptic and rubbing alcohol pulled me out of the darkness.

I forced my eyes open.

Thick gauze wrapped tightly around my forehead, seeped with blood. My right leg was encased in a heavy plaster cast, suspended high above the foot of the hospital bed.

The slightest twitch brought white-hot, agonizing pain.

The door creaked open.

Julian walked in wearing a tailored bespoke suit. He pulled out a visitor’s chair and sat down casually beside the bed.

He looked down at my pale, bruised face, his opening words laced with irritation:

"Can't you even watch where you're walking? How are you this clumsy?"

I lay still, staring at him without saying a word.

Julian brushed invisible dust from his cufflinks, his tone dismissive:

"I had my assistant pay the medical bill. Delivering laundry is a task for the nurses; you didn't need to run around yourself. Just lie here quietly. Don't go crying to people and making the Sterling name look bad."

Right on cue, the phone in his pocket buzzed.

Julian glanced at the caller ID. His expression shifted instantly, his tone turning dripping-sweet as he picked up:

"Mallory, sweetie? You're at the gallery? Okay, hold on, I'm coming to pick you up right now."

Hanging up, he stood, offering me not a single glance, and grabbed his keys before rushing out.

The sharp clatter of his leather shoes faded down the hallway.

With a deadpan expression, I slipped my left hand beneath the pillow and pressed the screen of my hidden phone.

The red recording indicator was still pulsing.

Through the speaker, Julian’s voice from right outside the hospital room came through, chatting with Patrick Bennett:

"Patrick, you went too far. She actually broke her leg."

"Hmph. If you don't teach her a bloody lesson, she'll never learn her place. I already wiped all the security footage. She’ll be stuck in that bed for months."

"Good. At least she won't be around the house making Mallory miserable."

The audio cut out.

I slowly hit save, uploading the encrypted file straight to the cloud server.

Twenty minutes later, the door swung open again.

Nathan and Attorney Cole rushed inside. The moment Nathan saw my cast and the bloodied bandage across my forehead, his face went pale with furious, repressed anguish. "Clara... did they do this?"

"Patrick's thugs did it. With Julian's blessing."

My voice was terrifyingly calm as I handed my phone to Attorney Cole. "The recording of them admitting to the garage attack is in there, along with the tattoo description. The medical report on my fractures will be ready shortly. File all of it."

Attorney Cole took the phone, backing it up immediately. "Understood. Aggravated assault causing severe bodily harm. That's more than enough for a felony charge."

Nathan poured me a glass of warm water, his voice quiet. "I’ve added private security around your father’s care facility. He’s completely safe. Your only priority right now is recovering."

"I know."

I took the cup, staring down at my immobilized leg.

The very last shred of warmth in my heart froze solid.

The searing physical pain was a constant reminder of how naive I had been.

And because of that, my mind had never been clearer.