Chapter 15
Chapter 15
“Walber, you think you can just snatch Marlie without worrying I’ll spill the beans about us? Don’t forget, you haven’t signed off yet. That means, technically, we’re still hitched. So, what’s gonna happen to your precious Ms. Moss, huh?” Clara’s tone was unmistakably a threat. Giving up Marlie wasn’t an option for her.
Walter’s gaze sharpened, a menacing light flickering within.
“You’re threatening me? Blow our cover and paint Tamara as the mistress? You wanna trash her rep, doom her to be a pariah in Zwingenrath?” he spat out.
“She’s not the mistress?” Clara shot back, barely hiding her smirk.
Finding humor in the situation, she thought about Walter’s shirt stained with lipstick and his perfume–scented embrace. He was flaunting Tamara as his fiancée, despite not having broached divorce with Clara, who hadn’t signed anything. They were seen together everywhere, clasping hands. If Tamara isn’t the mistress, who is? Clara mocked internally. Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.
Walter was speechless. The atmosphere became stifling, heavy with tension.
Finally, Walter said, “Tamara has got nothing to do with this mess. She shouldn’t get hurt. Knowing about her, you ought to back off and not stir trouble.”
His staunch defense of Tamara cut deep into Clara.
“What’s this “back off crap? Oh, so Tamara is off–limits to pain, but I’m fair game to be dumped? Clara felt a pang of agony, her eyes shadowed with pain.
“This is my turf. Get out, or I’m calling the cops,” she declared.
“Call the cops?” Walter laughed it off, clearly unphased.
Clara’s expression hardened, fully aware of Walter’s clout in Zwingenrath, She knew she stood no chance in a custody fight against him. Under his dominating influence, she was forced to relent.
In a lower voice, she proposed, “How about we both back down? I won’t mess with you and Ms. Moss, and I’ll make sure nobody finds out we were ever an item. Just leave the custody battle alone. We can live our lives, with no hard feelings. Agreed?”
Walter suddenly hoisted Clara up, pinning her against the wall with one hand gripping her chin tightly.
He barked, “No fucking way, unless you sign this addendum.” After saying this, he whipped out a piece of paper from his suit’s inner pocket.
The document, damp and stained from the rain, was thrust in front of Clara.
She scanned each word, her disbelief escalating with each line. “This is outright tyranny,‘ she thought, appalled.
The main points of the agreement were outrageous.
First off, she had to move back to their original villa. Walter would sort out Marlie’s kindergarten, and he would pick the nanny and driver–clear surveillance.
Second, she was to report to the Colon Group, shoved into investment planning. Her salary would be dumped onto a black card – control masquerading as generosity.
Third, a no–men policy at home. ‘Seriously?” She sighed inwardly.
Fourth, she was expected to be at his beck and call for his “needs.” “What the hell? Am I supposed to be on speed dial for sex? she wondered, disgusted.
This is absurd. Clara internally sneered, her patience snapping. Without hesitation, she ripped the oppressive agreement into pieces. Clara’s bold. – rejection, a clear shub, immediately ignited Walter’s fury,