A Contract with Desire

Chapter eleven (11)

Chapter 11

After Clara settled down in her room, the silence felt heavier than usual.

She had just begun to relax when her phone rang.

Her brows furrowed.

An unknown number.

For a moment, she hesitated… then answered.

“Hello?”

There was a brief pause on the other end—then a voice she knew too well.

“So… you’ve finally started showing your true colors.”

Clara’s expression hardened slightly as she sat up straighter.

Her stepmother.

Her voice, as always, was cold and controlled.

Clara inhaled slowly, steadying herself.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” she replied calmly.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know,” the woman snapped. “You humiliated your sister tonight. At that party, of all places.”

Clara’s fingers tightened slightly around her phone.

“Is that what she told you?” she asked quietly. “Did you even bother asking me what really happened?”

A scoff came from the other end.

“Clara, I don’t have time for your excuses.”

There was a pause.

Then her tone shifted—lower, more dangerous.

“Your grandmother is preparing to share her will.”

Clara froze for a second.

“…And what does that have to do with me?” she asked carefully.

“Don’t pretend,” her stepmother said sharply. “You think I don’t see through you? Running around, getting close to that family—”

“I didn’t even know about any will,” Clara cut in, her voice still calm but firmer now. “Not everything I do is about money.”

“Please,” the woman laughed bitterly. “A girl like you? Don’t insult my intelligence.”

Clara closed her eyes briefly, forcing herself to stay composed.

“I don’t care about anything from that family,” she said.

“Then take this as a warning,” her stepmother interrupted coldly.

Clara’s eyes opened slowly.

“Stay away from them.”

Silence filled the room.

“Especially from your grandmother,” the woman continued. “Avoid anything that will make the two of you cross paths again.”

Clara’s voice dropped.

“She’s still my grandmother.”

“Oh? Now you remember that?” came the mocking reply.

Before Clara could respond, her stepmother spoke again—

slowly, deliberately.

“You should be more concerned about your sister… Bella.”

Clara’s heart skipped.

“What about her?” she asked, her voice tightening slightly.

A soft chuckle followed.

“That little acting career of hers… it’s very fragile.”

Clara’s grip on the phone tightened.

“Unlike my daughter,” the woman continued proudly, “who is already at the top.”

Clara’s jaw clenched.

“One word,” her stepmother added, her tone turning icy, “and Bella could disappear from the industry.”

“Don’t involve Bella,” Clara said immediately, her voice low but firm.

For the first time, emotion slipped through.

“This is between you and me.”

“Then behave like it,” the woman replied sharply.

A pause.

Then—

“Stay away from that family, Clara.”

Her voice dropped into a final, chilling warning.

“Or next time… I won’t be calling to warn you.”

The line went dead.

⸻

Clara slowly lowered the phone.

Her hand was shaking.

The room suddenly felt too quiet… too small.

Bella.

For the first time, fear crept in—not for herself, but for someone else.

She sat there, unmoving, as the words echoed in her head.

Stay away… or else.

Clara swallowed hard, her chest tightening.

No.

This wasn’t just about her anymore.

It was about Bella.

And whatever this was…

It was far from over.