MasukSix years later
You know that feeling you get when you finally succeed, no matter the odds that were stacked against you?
That was the same way I felt as I sat on my cluttered desk, taking a sip of jasmine tea.
It was 8:00 a.m. in Madrid, the weather cosy and calm, with a gentle breeze brushing against the window.
I exhaled a deep breath as I returned my gaze to my laptop, slowly sifting through proposals until I was distracted by the sudden buzzing of my phone.
I glanced at the screen, a soft sigh escaping my lips before I picked up the call.
“Hello, Tessy?” I said firmly. “Please, could you call me back in about thirty minutes?”
“I understand, Ma’am, but I’m not calling because of Harlow’s holding project,” her voice came through, firm and sharp.
“Really!” I exclaimed softly, raising a brow. “So why did you call?”
“Okay, ma’am,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “Mr Grayson would love to meet with you tonight. He has made dinner reservations for you two at El Encanto by 7 p.m.”
I smiled faintly, caressing my hair gently.
“Okay, Tessy, I will be there,” I said firmly before she hung up.
I couldn’t refuse a dinner date from Mr Grayson, I mean, he is the only reason I am where I am today.
After he sponsored my medical bills, I permanently moved to Madrid, determined to start a new life for myself.
The rehabilitation process wasn’t easy at first, as there were no noticeable improvements in the first few months.
I had to give birth through a Caesarean section, and six months after Maurice was born, I gave my best shot at regaining my leg function—and it worked.
I had invested the million dollars given to me into real estate, as I was very much in love with it. Damon had often sought my advice on some of his projects, and since I had basic knowledge about it, I gave it my all.
Today in Spain, I was the leading firm in real estate, delivering hundreds of projects effortlessly. The struggles and sleepless nights were there, but I was able to scale through with the help of God and hard work.
A soft knock on the door snapped me out of my daze.
As the door was pushed open, Jane, my secretary, came in with a stack of documents in her hand.
“Good morning, ma’am. Here are all the proposals concerning the project you requested,” she said softly, forcing a faint smile.
I gestured for her to drop them on the desk, and as she turned to leave, she halted just at the door.
“Mr Johnson also made a special request,” she muttered, meeting my gaze. “He pleaded to get feedback by tomorrow.”
I nodded, a soft sigh escaping my lips. “It’s alright, Jane. I’ll see what I can do,” I said firmly as I dismissed her.
I let out a shaky breath, leaning back into my chair when the door closed behind me. I had so much work to do, with just a little time to do it.
Nevertheless, I accepted it because it was only through sacrifices and hard work that greatness could be attained.
The rest of the day was mainly about going through proposals and attending meetings without any time for myself.
I had totally forgotten about the date with Mr Grayson until my phone buzzed with a text message.
It read, “Good evening, ma’am. This is a reminder about your dinner date with Mr. Grayson at 7 p.m. today.”
I pressed a hand over my mouth as the realisation settled on me. Drifting my gaze to my wristwatch, it was 6:35 p.m., and it was going to take over an hour to get ready.
Without a second thought, I closed the laptop and grabbed a few of the things I needed at home before walking out the door.
As I settled into my car, I leaned back and exhaled a shaky breath, waiting for the chauffeur to join me.
“Take me to El Encanto,” I informed him when he got into the front seat. I watched him nod through the rear mirror before bringing the engine to life.
The drive to the restaurant was exhilarating because I was anticipating the dinner with Mr Grayson.
I would have loved to change into something better, but I couldn’t go home as I was already running late.
When I arrived at the restaurant, I was directed by one of the staff to where he was sitting in the VIP section.
He wore a black tailored suit, his beard well-shaved, looking like he was in his late twenties, even though he was a decade older than me.
He stood and gave me a hug, his perfume lingering in my nose, thick and intoxicating, before gesturing for me to sit.
“So sorry for being late,” I apologised as I glanced at my watch and realised it was already 7:54 p.m. “I had lost track of time working at the office.”
He smiled faintly, leaning into his seat. “It’s fine, Clara. At least you’re here now. What would you care for?” He asked, beckoning to the waiter to come over.
“Please get me Tortilla Española,” I told the waiter, who took both our orders before leaving.
He returned with the order items after a few minutes. “Would you like anything else?” He asked firmly.
“No, that’s fine for now,” Mr. Grayson replied, his voice dismissive.
As the waiter left, I picked up my fork and began to eat quietly, the aroma of the food thick in the air.
Mr Grayson joined me, and in the next few minutes we ate in silence until it was broken by him.
“I must congratulate you, Clara. You have been able to single-handedly buy over fifty percent of the shares from Damon’s company. That’s really a massive victory.”
My heart swelled up with excitement, my lips curling into a warm smile as I basked in the acknowledgement of my victory.
“Thank you, Leonard. I wouldn’t have gotten this far without your help,” I muttered softly. “I couldn’t be more grateful.”
He placed his spoon on his plate, raising his face to meet my gaze. “You have said those words a thousand times already, Clara. Anyways, your flight to New York has been booked, you will get the tickets soon.”
“Thank you,” I said softly. “It was time to say hi to Damon Adams.”
For a moment, I wanted to reconsider my decision to go back to New York. Was there a need to return to a place that had given me so much pain? But then, I needed to settle the scores with Damon Adams.
Lydia’s POVI stopped immediately the words slipped from my lips. But the nail had already been hit to the head. Clara turned to face me fully, her arms crossed like she was bracing against a wind I couldn’t see.“What do you mean?”“The baby I’m carrying,” I said carefully. “It might not even be a match for Maurice.”She let out a humorless chuckle. “Everything was done to make sure the baby would be a match. That’s why we did the IVF. That’s why we chose you.”My nails dug into my palm. Why couldn’t she just listen? She doesn’t what to listen to me. She is desperate to desperate to get rid of the baby, that she can’t see anything past it. “But what if it’s not?” I pushed, even though every part of me wanted to stop talking. “What if there was a mistake?”She stood up sharply. “There won’t be a mistake. The doctors made sure everything was done right.” I sighed quietly. Same doctors who couldn’t even tell when the whole embryo transfer process was hijacked? How do I tell
Clara’s POVHis hand rested on the frame for balance, his eyes steady on me in a way that made unease crawl under my skin. I wasn’t even shocked at the fact that he was now able to walk. My concern was how long he stood there. Did he hear everything I said to the doctor? He took a few steps forward. Calculated and gentle, normal for someone who probably had gotten back their ability to work. He stopped in front of me, his expression unreadable. “What are you getting rid of?”He repeated again, like i didn’t hear him the first time. My composure was hanging by a thread. One wrong move, and I’d burst.“Just some old clothes,” I said, forcing the words out smooth, even though my pulse was doing something frantic beneath my ribs. “I’ve been meaning to donate them. I was on with a donation center about pickup times.”He studied me. He didn’t blink. It was the kind of look that made you feel like every lie you’d ever told was suddenly visible on your face. He placed a hand over m
Clara’s POVI didn’t remember the drive home. I was probably too much in my feelings to pick a thing from it except the long traffic. All I remember was slamming my bedroom door shut.I leaned against it and slid down against it until I was seated on the cold tile floor. I sat there, staring at nothing— my mind looping the same six words I told Damon. I’m getting rid of it. It’s done. Then the tears came. Subtle at first, but grew louder and more ugly with every passing second. I couldn’t hold it back, no matter how much I tried. A knock disrupted everything. “Clara?” Lydia’s voice, soft through the door. “Are you okay? I think I heard you cry.” I couldn’t answer. My throat had closed up around every possible word I could say. “Clara, please open the door. You’re scaring me.”Her voice came again, more urgent and laced with concern. I forced myself up and quickly wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. My hands were trembling as I removed the locked, pulling down the ha
Clara’s POVI arrived early to the cafe.Damon and I had arranged to meet at 8:00 pm, but I was there by 7:20 pm. Maybe, i was just too nervous to wait a bit longer before coming. And even as I watched people go in and out of the cafe, my hands were fidgeting nervously under the table.It was a hard fight.Myself against tension.While I was trying to remain calm, it was doing everything it could to make me go crazy.Occasionally, I would lift my gaze towards the large clock on the wall which was hanging askew in front of the cafe.8:05 PM.Damon was arriving soon.And right after a few minutes, the door opened.Damon walked in, looking a bit over dressed for a meet up at a cafe. Bro arrived in tuxedo, looking sharp and composed as always. His eyes scanned the room until they met mine, and I could see a smile forming on his lips.He walked over to where I was seated.“Hi.”I stood from my chair.“Hi.”I extended my hand for a handshake.He didn’t take it. He rather closed in and
Clara’s POV A nurse walked up to me, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.“You fainted, Mrs. Grayson.”Soon-to-be, but I wasn’t about to correct her while having no clue what happened.“You’re in the hospital. You’ve been unconscious for about thirty minutes.”I tried to sit up.She pushed me back down with the gentle firmness of someone who’d done this exact move a thousand times.“Easy. You need to rest. I’ll get the doctor.”I stared at the ceiling the moment the door clicked shut.My mind was blank. I couldn’t afford to let it wander anywhere I couldn’t control.The doctor walked in a few minutes later, clipboard in hand, wearing the kind of expression that told you something good was coming.“Mrs. Grayson. How are you feeling?”I sucked in a deep breath.“Weak….”She closed the space between us, placed her stethoscope on my chest, and put the two ends into her ears.Her expression was unreadable.“You fainted due to low blood sugar and dehydration.”There was a momen
Six weeks laterClara’s POVThe only thing that seemed to be progressing was time. Six weeks slipped by before I even noticed.My wedding was a week away.All I had to do now was keep pretending I wanted it, and walk straight into it anyway.Lydia sat beside me in the car, one hand resting on her tummy. You could tell she couldn’t wait to meet the tiny life growing inside her. I too couldn’t wait. “I still can’t believe it,” she said. “Seven weeks already.”“Time flies,” I said, eyes on the road. Deep down, I wished it could go a little faster. Maybe I’d wake up tomorrow, and it would already be five months.Her head snapped toward me. “And you! Just one week left.” She practically bounced in her seat. “One week until you’re Mrs. Grayson.”I’d never seen her smile so big. It was even surprising that I wasn’t even half excited as her. I kept my eyes forward and my smile glued on — the smile I’d perfected over six weeks of lying.I said nothing. Honestly, I had nothing to say.
Damon’s POV “You’re pathetic,” Camilla spat again, her eyes blazing. “I always knew there was something between the two of you.”“It’s not what you think—” “Shut up, Damon,” she cut in sharply. “Why were you trying to kiss her in that elevator?” Seconds dragged. I said nothing. She let out a h
Clara’s POVThe elevator dinged, opening to the hallway that led to my hotel room.“I love the way you handled everything, Clara,” Desmond said as we stepped out and made our way down the corridor.I paused, resting a hand on his shoulder. “It wouldn’t have been possible without you. Thank you.”“
Damon’s POV My words hung in the air, but for some reason Camilla didn’t look surprised— at least not the way I had expected.She let out a soft breath, the wooden spoon in her hand paused mid-air. Her gaze locked with mine, her expression guarded and unreadable like there was something waiting t
Clara’s POV Mr Salvador turned to face me fully. “Mr Damon stepped out to—” He paused as Maurice mistakenly dropped his spoon to the floor, which produced a clattering sound. Salvador and I turned to him as he clutched onto his food flask. “Sorry,” he whispered softly and lowered his face to the







