Chapter 3 - The Phantom Mother
Clara did not flinch at the sound of her former name.
She kept her chin raised, looking directly into the cold gray eyes of the man who had bought every judge in the county to erase her existence.
"My name is Clara Evans, sir," she said softly, her voice steady despite the hammer in her ribs.
Julian stepped around the massive desk, towering over her with the menacing confidence of unchecked generational wealth.
"You think putting on a maid’s collar shields you from an NDA and a signed committal order?"
"I could have you thrown into county lockup before sunrise for trespassing and fraud."
"Then do it," Clara whispered, stepping half an inch forward into his space.
Julian paused, caught off guard by the absence of fear in her hollowed, beautiful face.
"Call the sheriff, Julian."
"Explain to the district attorney why a presumed-dead woman is working your scullery."
"Explain why your son looked at a complete stranger as if she were the only person capable of breathing life back into his lungs."
Julian’s jaw tightened, the muscles along his temple twitching with suppressed rage.
"He is four years old."
"He doesn't remember your face, your voice, or the scent of your skin."
"You are a ghost to him, Sarah, and ghosts do not inherit trust funds."
"He remembered me the second the door opened," Clara countered, her voice knife-sharp.
"He remembered that the woman currently wearing emerald silk in your bed is nothing more than a purchased ornament."
Julian raised his hand, his fury boiling to the surface, before catching himself with a sharp breath.
May you like
"You will be on the 5:00 AM freight shuttle to Chicago with ten thousand dollars in cash."
"If you are within twenty miles of this estate tomorrow noon, I will make sure you disappear where no one will ever find a single bone."
