CHAPTER 4
1679 Words
The compound gate creaked slowly open, and Clara grasped the car door handle as if it were the last solid thing she had.
Daniel sat quietly beside her, eyes fixed straight ahead and jaw clenched.
Tessa walked out before they could knock. She didn’t say much, simply opened her arms.
Clara let the hug last longer than she intended. Not because she was weak, but because, for the first time in days, someone touched her without expecting anything in exchange.
"I cleared the guest room," Tessa said, pushing a curl behind her ear. "It’s not much, but—"
"It’s more than enough," Clara interrupted. Her voice crackled.
Daniel whispered a thank-you while pulling the sole bag they’d managed to pack.
---
Wearing old trousers and a borrowed shirt, Clara left Tessa’s house. She had skipped meals. It didn’t feel right.
As she rode to the hospital, head low and silent, the city passed her in blurs. Everything inside smelled of stress and bleach.
She gave the nurses a nod and proceeded down the corridor as if she had done it a hundred times. She had.
She stopped at the Ward B3 door. Gripping the handle tightly, she pulled it open.
Her mother was motionless, breathing slowly with her eyes closed.
Silently, as though the walls might collapse if she made a sound, Clara entered and sat next to the bed.
She had yet to see the bill, but her chest already felt heavy.
Her mother lay pale and weak, breathing—certainly—but barely there.
Finally, the chemotherapy had started, but they both knew it was too late.
Much too late.
A nurse stepped forward, her tone firm yet kind. "Miss Clifford, if the next deposit isn’t received by tomorrow, we’ll have to stop therapy. I’m really sorry."
Clara gave a blank nod. "Thank you."
With shaking fingers, she took her phone out of her bag and stepped into the hallway.
She launched the banking app.
The account had been frozen.
She refrained from crying.
Luxury was out of her price range. Like a horrific dream, a recollection flashed through her mind: the seizure notice pinned to their gate, her father in handcuffs, and the authorities padlocking their house.
They had given them a suitcase of clothes and her mother’s car. Nothing more.
---
Her finger hovered over a contact from the scholarship board. She tapped it.
"Hello? This is Clara Clifford. I—"
"I’m sorry, Miss Clifford," the voice cut in. "The board is reviewing all ongoing sponsorships. Please call back next month."
Click.
She didn’t call back. Not even Kane felt like a safe card to play anymore.
---
She only spent a few hours at the hospital before leaving.
"Staying won’t help. I need to go put things together," she muttered to herself angrily.
Back at Tessa’s, the sharp scent in the air made it clear—something was cooking.
Clara walked into the sitting room just in time to hear Daniel shouting into the phone.
She slowed down a bit, leaning closer to the wall to catch the conversation.
"He’s not a criminal! Take that back!"
"Daniel!" she yelled, rushing to take the phone from him.
"They said Dad deserved to rot," he muttered, eyes burning.
"And you had to fight?"
He looked down. "In the cafeteria. I didn’t know how to just let it go. They kept saying stuff, making it all sound like truth. Now… now my scholarship’s under review."
She embraced him, holding her feelings together.
"Listen, sweetheart. We have to be smarter now. Being loud might just be another trap. Let me handle this."
Their hug was broken by the sound of a car pulling up outside. An old black car.
Clara moved to the window.
Marcus.
He was about to leave when she answered the door.
Tall and well-dressed, he still carried the composed manner he used to have when driving them to church.
He had been trusted by her father. She had trusted him too.
"Clara," he murmured, a subtle grin on his lips. "I was sent by Mr. Richard Kane. I was asked to bring these to you."
He extended a sealed brown package. "And to check in. See how you're holding up."
You work for Mr. Kane now?
Clara was surprised.
Marcus didn’t answer. He didn’t even blink.
Inside, they sat across from each other in the modest living room. Clara opened the envelope: medical referrals, legal terms, and a note about "pending support."
Marcus sipped from a glass of water. "You know... people don’t give without expecting something back, Clara. And some will take everything you need after giving you what you wanted."
She looked up. "What are you trying to say?"
"I’m just passing on harmless knowledge. Something I’ve learned from years of serving billionaires."
Her eyes narrowed. "Do you know him well?"
Marcus smiled faintly. "Better than most. As well as every member of the family."
They talked for a few hours—about her career, about how he came to know Mr. Kane.
“At first, it felt like a palace. Safe. Until the prince showed up,” he said, narrating with a bitter chuckle.
Later that night, as he prepared to leave after spending time with his old boss's children, the glow of his phone lit up the car interior.
Clara stood not far off, waiting to wave goodbye.
She paused when she heard his voice:
"If I play this well, she’ll never make it to the altar."
Clara overheard him on a call. Her heart dropped. She became terrified.
---
Clara sat on the edge of Tessa’s guest bed when her phone rang.
Mr. Kane.
"Hello, Clara."
"Good evening, sir," she answered quickly.
"Did you receive my message?"
"Yes, sir, but I haven’t checked the content yet. I’m sorry, sir."
"That’s alright. I’m calling to give you the message directly."
Mr. KANE: "There’s someone I want you to meet. Vincent’s Diner. 7 p.m. Come alone."
Moments later, another message popped up.
She closed her eyes.
Just dinner.
---
Vincent’s Diner was upscale, white-tableclothed, and faintly intimidating.
"I told you, Dad," Adrian said.
"Let me settle things on my own. I don’t need an arranged solution. I just haven’t met someone who gets me."
Mr. Kane didn’t flinch. "We already spoke about it with her father. Would you have me break my word? Clara is a perfect partner for you."
Adrian gave a sharp breath, then turned toward the entrance.
Mr. Kane followed his gaze. Clara had arrived.
She looked stunning—even in modest wear. Composed, despite the tremor in her fingers.
"Please," Mr. Kane gestured. "Sit."
"Hello," Adrian said, stretching his hand for a shake.
"Good evening, sir," she responded, taking it.
"Alright, alright," Mr. Kane said, adjusting in his chair.
"I won’t waste time. We’re here for something important."
He kept smiling, as if he’d just signed a multimillion-dollar contract.
"Clara, this is Adrian, my son. Adrian, she’s Clifford’s first child."
He looked at both of them, probably expecting some reaction. But the kids were muted.
Mr. KANE: "Your father and I spoke. The only way we can save your family now... is through you. You must become part of my family."
"All your needs will be taken care of, and together, we’ll pursue justice for your father."
"Sir… I don’t understand," Clara said, clearly confused.
"You will marry Adrian."
"Marry?"
She almost screamed, eyes wide. Then quickly adjusted, mindful of the setting.
"But sir..."
Clara stared at him, lips pressed tight. Mr. Kane watched her a moment, then stood. "I’ll give you two some space. Decide quickly."
He took his phone and left the table. Silence followed.
Adrian cleared his throat. "I know how you feel. I’m sure you never imagined this."
Clara blinked. "So you’re part of this arrangement? We don’t even know each other."
Adrian looked down. "Right.
I’m doing this because my father will be disappointed otherwise. He believes he knows what’s best for me."
"No," Clara whispered, starting to rise.
"Listen. I know you’re struggling right now. I’d be lying if I said I already wanted you as my wife... but this could help your family. The company will handle your mum’s care and your brother’s needs."
He took a sip from his glass.
Clara reached for hers but didn’t drink. "Why are you even agreeing to this?"
"I’m not," Adrian said. "Not yet."
"Then why are you here?"
"My dad will only hand over the company to his married son."
A bitter smile curled Clara’s lips. "So we’re both leverage. How pathetic."
He chuckled, dry but sincere. "You don’t look like someone who’d let herself be used."
"Neither do you," she said.
They sat in silence for a beat. The tension loosened, but it didn’t leave.
Adrian reached into his coat, pulled out a plain envelope. "It’s not much. But I heard about your hospital bills. Take it."
Clara hesitated. "I haven’t said yes."
"Of course. I’m not expecting an answer tonight. This isn’t a bribe."
He smiled gently.
She took it—slowly. "I need some time. I’ll get back to you."
Adrian stood. That was his goodbye.
---
The apartment Tessa loaned them was quiet when Clara returned. Daniel was watching cartoons with the sound low. Tessa sat on the floor, folding clothes.
Clara stood in the doorway, her shoulders slumped, eyes searching.
"How was it?" Tessa asked.
She hesitated. "It’s not what I expected."
"It’s a marriage offer."
Daniel looked up. "What?"
She nodded, voice low. "I don’t think… I can’t do it."
Tessa walked over.
"You might not want to, but you need to.
Clara, if the guy isn’t cruel or broken, why not? You need help right now."
Daniel approached her slowly, voice cracking. "Clara, plea
se. Just say yes. You have to. If this falls away, we fall with it. You’ve seen the hell that’s coming!"
He choked on the last word and started crying.
Clara clung to Tessa’s hand.
"No, no, no… not me, please..."
She joined Daniel. And cried her voice out.
- Writer
