He Called Me Blind

CHAPTER TWO — Open Provocation

CLAIRE'S POV

Ethan had been acting differently since he learned about the pregnancy. He had become more attentive—gentler than ever.

Almost like he truly cared about me and the pup.

But I knew better now.

I smiled in front of him, pretending I knew nothing, while inside, I was completely wrecked.

Now he was fulfilling his duties like a devoted, caring husband.

As he helped me settle onto the couch, his fingers were warm against my elbow—but that warmth didn’t reach my heart anymore.

His gaze flicked toward the housekeeper as he gave light instructions.

“Claire’s pregnant,” he said with quiet authority. “From now on—every detail from her meals, clothes, supplements—everything must be perfect. No room for mistakes.”

“Yes, Alpha,” Sarah nodded, then quickly disappeared to prepare my morning meal.

Ethan turned back to me. He bent down, kissed my forehead like he used to, and rested one hand on my stomach.

“I never thought I’d be a father,” he murmured, eyes fixed on my still-flat belly. “Thank you for giving me this. You and the baby mean everything to me now. I love you.”

In the past, those words would’ve filled me with warmth.

But now, knowing everything had been a deception, I felt nothing but disgust.

Everything to him now?

And where exactly did that leave his beloved Isabella?

I tilted my head and gave him the softest smile I could fake. “Then let’s protect what matters.”

He nodded—unaware of how rehearsed my words were.

When he left, I let the tears fall.

They came hot and silent, soaking my cheeks as I bit my lip to keep from crying out loud.

___

The next morning, he left early for work. I heard his car roll out of the gates just before sunrise.

I forced myself to stay up, though my knees still felt like jelly.

Last night, he had gone wild in bed again. But the passion we used to share was completely gone.

My heart—as well as my whole being—felt like nothing more than a corpse.

When I came down to the dining room, I sensed Sarah’s presence. She was busy serving breakfast, judging by the clinking of plates.

“Good morning, Luna,” she greeted me enthusiastically.

Her voice sparkled with excitement—probably because of the news of my pregnancy, which no one could still quite believe.

“Good morning, Sarah,” I replied, offering her a small smile as I sat down at the dining table.

“Your breakfast is served. Today, you’ll have oatmeal with berries, eggs with smoked salmon, asparagus with butter, and a warm muffin on your right.”

I touched the edge of the plate, nodding politely at her careful presentation.

“Sarah,” I interrupted, “can you help me post something on social media? I want to share the news.”

“Of course, Luna!”

I held out the ultrasound photo from yesterday’s appointment. The tiny blur of life nestled in a black void—it almost made me weep as I gently caressed the image.

If only I could see it.

“Caption it,” I instructed. “Can’t wait to meet you. For the rest of our lives, you’ll be the meaning of life for Dad and Mom.”

“That’s beautiful,” Sarah said, already working on the post.

Within seconds, she gasped. “Alpha Ethan liked it right away. He really loves you.”

“I know,” I murmured with a faint smile.

But even I didn’t believe that anymore.

___

The garden was filled with the scent of tulips—vivid and fragrant. I sat on the swing beneath the oak tree, letting the breeze tangle through my hair.

Tulips have never been my favorite. But they were always around him.

Around us, to be precise.

Isabella loved tulips.

And I only realized it now. The flowers that lined our paths, decorated our halls, and filled our vases—they had never been planted for me.

They were hers. Always hers.

A tear escaped down my cheek again before I could stop it.

I wiped it quickly and reached for my phone.

I pressed the automatic dial and called the only friend I trusted—someone who had helped me once, years ago.

We talked briefly.

I confirmed my enrollment at the art school abroad, finalized the booking for my flight two weeks from now, and asked her to find a cornea donor.

Two weeks. That was all the time I needed to erase myself from this life.

While Ethan busied himself with nurseries, books on fatherhood, and designer cribs, I was also busy—getting rid of everything he had ever given me.

Birthday gifts. Anniversary tokens. The bracelet from our first trip. Even my wedding ring—the one I used to press against my lips at night when I felt alone.

What wasn’t truly mine… I would not keep.

___

That evening, Ethan wasn't home yet. But I didn't care. I had to stop caring about it, whether he got home or not.

I was already in bed, trying to close my eyes and get some sleep when my phone buzzed with a voice message.

It was from Isabella.

She said Ethan was drunk and needed a ride home.

She knew I was blind. And she, of course, knew he had a driver.

I knew it was a trap. An open provocation.

Maybe I had hit a nerve with her when I posted that update on social media.

She wanted to play a game with me. Then I would give her what she wants.

I took her bait.

I dressed up slowly, and once I was done, I told Sarah to let my driver prepare the car.

She was worried at first and wanted to accompany me, but I declined her gently and assured her that it was okay.

I made a trip to one of the high-end bars in the city—the Azure Haven.

When I arrived and entered the place, I was greeted with the strong smell of perfumes, alcohol, and some wolves. The loud music was deafening and almost tore my eardrums apart.

Then, I felt a sharp click of stilettos and an expensive smell of a woman coming my way.

"You must be Claire!" she chirped. "Isabella said the blind girl with a cane would be easy to spot. Guess she was right."

Her voice grated. I felt her disdainful look at me in the moment. But she still looped her arm through mine like we were friends for decades.

She led me through the sea of people, then upstairs, I think, as we were climbing the stairs. She didn't even mind dragging a blind woman up, but I endured and managed to keep up with her.

Then, when we were already at a private lounge, she disappeared.

The noise, and the smoke from there—it turned my stomach.

I stood alone. Though I didn't see their faces, I could feel each one of them.

And I only sensed one thing: they were reeking with contempt toward me.

Then finally, I heard them start to speak, one after another.

"Seriously, what was Ethan thinking about staying with that blind girl dumped by the Shaws?"

"Ethan and Isabella are the real deal. That fake heiress? Oh please!"

"Isabella’s the rightful North. Claire’s nothing but a maid’s mistake."

"Maybe she’s just good in bed. Once Ethan dumps her, I’ll have my turn."

My grip tightened around the cane.

A slow, cold fury bloomed in my chest.

I took one breath, then followed their voices. I reached for a random glass, raised my arm, and with all the grace I had left—

I threw it.

Let them choke on the mess they made.

Let this be the start of war.