The Whitmore Mansion.
The moment Claire shut her bedroom door, the mask shattered.
She slammed it so hard the frame rattled, the sound echoing through the quiet room. Her chest heaved as rage flooded her veins, hot and uncontrollable. The elegant smile she had worn earlier twisted into something ugly as she paced the length of the room.
"That should have worked," she hissed.
Her heels were kicked off violently, one of them striking the wall. She didn't care. Nothing mattered except the image burned into her mind—
Nathan standing beside Bella.
Protecting her. Defending her.
Claire grabbed the edge of her vanity, staring at her reflection. Her eyes were bright with fury, lips pressed into a thin line.
"She stood there like a victim," Claire muttered. "Like she didn't deserve every look she got like she didn't deserve what I did to her. That bitch!."
Her fingers curled into fists.
Bella was supposed to crumble today.
She was supposed to lower her head, apologize for existing, retreat into the background where she belonged. Claire had imagined it so clearly—the whispers turning cruel, the judgment sticking, Bella walking away humiliated.
Instead, Nathan Rivers had walked in and dismantled everything.
Claire swept her hand across the vanity, knocking over perfume bottles and cosmetics. Glass shattered against the floor.
"Who does she think she is?" Claire shouted to the empty room. "Who does she think she can be?"
She sank onto the edge of the bed, breath uneven. The anger didn't fade—it sharpened.
Nathan hadn't just defended Bella. He had protected her .
Claire's nails dug into her palms. "He looked at her like she mattered."
That realization hurt more than she wanted to admit.
"Why do she always get the better ones. First Aaron, now Nathan. Those stupid thugs couldn't even do a simple job properly."
"Ugh! I want to kill her. I want her dead" Claire spat out, voice filled with venom.
Fine.
If humiliation didn't break Bella, then emotional torture would.
Claire stood again, pacing slower now, more deliberate. Her anger began to settle into something colder, more focused.
Bella always needed someone stronger than her.
That was the weakness.
"She can't stand on her own," Claire murmured. "She never could."
Claire opened her laptop and sat at her desk, the glow of the screen illuminating her face. She pulled up old photos—family gatherings, events, carefully cropped memories.
Bella always stood slightly apart. Always quieter. Always unsure.
Perfect.
Claire began typing, not publicly but privately.
Concerned messages. Carefully worded questions. Sympathetic tones.
I'm worried about Bella.
She's been under a lot of stress lately.
She gets attached easily… sometimes too easily.
I just hope she's okay.
She paused, reread, then sent them selectively.
Not many.
Just enough.
She leaned back in her chair, watching the messages disappear.
Then she thought of Aaron. Claire's lips curved slowly.
She picked up her phone and dialed.
He answered, tense. "What now?"
Claire softened her voice instantly. "I'm worried."
There was a pause. "About what?"
"Bella," she said. "She didn't seem herself today. Emotional. Fragile."
"That's because of Nathan," Aaron snapped. He was still clearly pissed about the restaurant incident.
"Exactly," Claire replied calmly. "Men like him don't stay. And when he leaves… who do you think she'll fall apart on?"
Silence stretched.
"She's engaged to me," Aaron said eventually.
"But she doesn't act like it," Claire said. "And people are starting to notice."
"That's your fault," he accused.
Claire ignored it. "If you don't assert yourself, you'll lose her."
Another pause.
"What are you suggesting?" Aaron asked.
"That you remind her of reality," Claire said softly. "Obligations. Expectations. Consequences."
Aaron exhaled sharply. "I'll handle it."
Claire smiled after the call ended.
One piece in place.
She closed the laptop and stood, walking back to the mirror. Her room was a mess now—broken glass, scattered objects—but she barely noticed.
She studied herself carefully.
"Bella thinks today was a victory," she said quietly. "But it was just a delay."
Claire leaned closer to the mirror, her eyes hard and calculating.
"She has no idea how ugly this can get."
She straightened, smoothing her hair back into place.
Nathan might protect Bella in public.
But he couldn't be everywhere.
And when Bella finally stood alone—
Claire intended to be the one watching her fall.
" I can't wait to see you fall Bella Whitmore. Everything you think you have will be mine eventually that includes Nathan. He must be mine" .