His Father's Bride

CHAPTER 004

Clara was seated at her small work desk, laptop open, and her fingers hovering over the keyboard. The deadline flashed on the screen: 4,000 words due by 3pm. She hadn’t written a word. Leaning back, she ran a hand through her hair and sighed. Normally, this used to be easy, but today her thoughts felt scattered.

She stared at the words she had previously written: "Love can break you in ways that nothing else can."

Her eyes lingered on the line. She sighed. She should be writing. A client was waiting for a campaign draft. It wasn’t even hard, just words, something she was good at.

But her thoughts were stuck. Not on the project. Not even on Adrian specifically.

Just that message, her name, in someone else’s message. She stood up, feeling restless and walked to the kitchen to reheat her coffee. She paced as the microwave hummed, arms folded tight across her chest.

“Pull it together,” she whispered.

The microwave beeped, and she blinked, her focus snapping back to the coffee. She went back to the desk and tried to refocus, but her fingers wouldn’t move. Instead, she grabbed her phone, opened i********: and typed Layla.

Too many results. She scrolled down, looking for who she hadn’t met before to see what Layla looked like.

She typed again. Adrian Caldwell.

Her screen lit up with scattered headlines, some grainy pictures, and a blurry photo that made her stomach clench. A woman with caramel skin looking elegant, stood close to Adrian outside an unknown restaurant. As she clicked on the image, her heart tightened.

The caption read:

“Mystery woman spotted with Adrian Caldwell, who was not his fiancée”

She glanced at the screen for a long time, she didn’t blink, and she could hear her heartache.

She didn’t cry or scream. She just sat there, stiff, trying to put together what she had just finished reading. Just then, a message popped once again snapped her from her thoughts. It was from her client.

“Hey Clara, just checking in. Are you still on track today?”

She stared at it, then slowly typed: “Yes, already on your work.”

That was when she knew she needed to concentrate on her work.

Adrian stared at his phone, his heart racing in his chest. A blurry but undeniable photo of him and Layla, standing outside their favorite restaurant. His name was tagged, but Layla’s wasn’t.

He doesn’t even have a photo. Who took it? Who posted it? He barely let himself think. The fear of scandal, the fear of his and his father’s reputation all hit him at once.

He dialed Layla’s number. She picked up after two rings. “Hey,” she said softly, as if nothing was wrong.

“You posted that photo?”

A beat of silence. “What photo?”

“Don’t play dumb. The one outside Cielo, it’s out there. It’s online.”

Her voice tightened. “No, why would you even think that?”

“Because you were upset, you’ve been saying you’re tired of hiding that I’m choosing over you. "Was this your way of forcing it out?”

She caught her breath. “You think I would expose us like that?”

“I don’t know what to think!” he snapped. “Look, if this goes public, it will ruin everything.”

Layla’s tone went cold. “Everything for you, you mean.”

“Layla…”

“No, I get it now. You think I’m some emotional liability, like that’s all I’m good for; passion in the night and chaos in the light. And maybe that makes it easier for you to sleep at night, but I didn’t post that damn photo.”

Adrian didn’t know what to do, didn’t know whether to believe her or not. Then Layla hung up. And just like that, their already fragile bond began to c***k.

The Next Morning in Edward Caldwell’s Study Room

The room was eerily silent. Edward Caldwell stood by the massive window, while the morning light reflected over his suit, though he hadn’t moved since he saw the post. The silence wasn’t peaceful, it was the type that always comes before a storm.

On the desk behind him was a tablet, its screen still glowed the image that had already made headlines.

“Come in,” Richard said, without turning. “I assume you’ve seen it,” he seethed.

Adrian stepped in, the tension already crawling beneath his skin. “Dad, listen...”

“He trusted you, Adrian.” Edward turned slowly and measured, but his eyes were blazing. “Clara’s father… that man put his legacy, his daughter’s life, into our hands. Into yours, on his deathbed.”

Adrian lowered his head.

“I made him a promise,” he continued. “That she wouldn’t face this world alone, that you would protect her, not because we needed her, and not because she needed us, but because he did.”

Adrian’s voice was low. “I didn’t ask for this marriage.”

“And did you think I did?” Richard snapped. “I accepted that request not because it was good business but because it was the right thing to do.”

He gestured to the screen. “And now look, this is the woman you’ve chosen to humiliate Clara with till it goes to the public?”

“I didn’t post it,” he countered.

“That doesn’t matter!” Richard barked. “You let it happen, and now we are all dealing with the fallout, our phones won’t stop ringing, investors will also be on edge.”

Adrian’s expression twisted. “So what? I’m now a pawn in some dead man’s favor? Is that it?”

He stepped closer, his eyes locked on his son. “No son, you’re a Caldwell and that used to mean something, but right now, you have made us look like liars, like frauds, you made me go back on my word.”

Richard stepped back, picked up the whiskey in his glass. “Fix it, before it buries us both.”

_____

The ballroom was full of press and power. Cameras flashed, murmurs swept across the room like waves. Everyone had received the same cryptic invitation from Adrian Caldwell himself. Clara sat alone in the back seat of her car, parked in front of the grand venue, her hands clenched tightly in her laps.

She hadn’t moved in ten minutes. The invitation was formal, like the one she was given a few days ago.

“Adrian Caldwell cordially invites you to a private celebration of a new beginning.”

She got down from the car, fingers trembling as she dialed his number. He picked it up immediately.

“I’m outside. Come out,” she said, flat but shaky.

Two minutes later, Adrian stepped out through the grand entrance, looking nothing like the man from the headlines. No arrogance, just confusion and guilt written all over his face. “Why didn’t you come in?”

She tilted her head, and crossed her arms. “You really thought I would walk in there and let you announce me as your bride, right after the whole world saw who you really wanted.”

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing. “I was going to fix it.”

“No, you were going to stage it.” she shot back.

“Isn’t that what they want, what my father wants and what your father asked for…?”

“Don’t you dare mention my father,” she snapped, stepping closer. Her voice shook, not out of rage but from pain. “You can’t use me as a damage controller.”

“Clara, I was trying to protect you” he responded.

“No, you weren’t, you were trying to protect your image, and now, you are inviting me into the circus to play the loyal bride.” She seethed.

A deep breath, then her final words, quiet but heavy. “I am calling off the wedding.”

He looked up sharply. “What?”

“You want to fix this? Start by fixing yourself, but I won’t be doing this with you.”

She turned, her hand already on the open door of the car. “Good luck with your big announcement.”

And just like that, the car zoomed off.