Chapter 12
533words
Who would've thought that days later, he'd launch a full-blown campaign to win me back.
I confronted him, completely baffled: "We've been divorced for four years. What the hell are you playing at?"
His eyes softened in a way I'd never seen before. "Clara, I've fallen in love with you. Really in love. I know I hurt you terribly, and I'll regret it till my dying day. But I've changed. Let me prove it to you. Let me show you how I can love you properly."
I snorted. "Save it. We're fundamentally incompatible. You and Isabelle deserve each other. May you both rot together!"
He shook his head vehemently. "Clara, I swear I don't love Isabelle. I'm only helping her out of guilt."
I laughed bitterly. "Then keep right on helping her. Just leave me out of it. I don't need that psycho coming after me again."
Julian caught my disgust and jumped on it. "I know you hate her and the kid. I'll send them overseas. Cut all contact. From now on, it'll be just you. All my attention, all my devotion—only for you."
His "generosity" left me cold. "Whatever. Be good to whoever you want. I stopped giving a damn years ago. Besides, I'm pregnant now, so there's zero chance for us. Save your breath."
He pressed on, increasingly desperate: "I don't care if it's another man's baby! Come back to me, and I'll raise the child as my own!"
The man really did have a thing for raising other people's kids.
But I wasn't biting. "Who says I want you back? Why would I leave someone as amazing as Ethan for you? Do I look insane to you?"
I was done with this conversation. I turned on my heel and walked away.
But Julian was like gum on my shoe—impossible to shake off. My office drowned in exotic flowers. Anonymous packages appeared at my door.
One contained a flawless emerald that caught the light like green fire.
Julian's message read: "Worth over five million—more than the one I gave Isabelle. Everything that happened was my fault. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Clara, just one chance. That's all I'm asking."
His persistence was driving me crazy. I requested leave from work, planning to hide out at home until he gave up.
I stayed holed up for three days straight. Julian camped outside my building the entire time.
Ethan was baffled. "Doesn't this guy have a multi-billion dollar company to run? Where does he find the time?"
I sighed heavily. "What am I supposed to do? He's like a leech. How do I shake him?"
Ethan thought for a moment, then his lips curved into a knowing smile. "Don't worry. I've got this."
Two weeks later, Julian texted me: "Clara, emergency at the company. Have to return to New York immediately. Wait for me."
I knew immediately that Ethan had engineered whatever "emergency" had called Julian away.
I had zero intention of waiting. I blocked his number, his email, his social media—every possible way he could reach me.
