The Wife he threw Away (Claire and Lucian) novel Chapter 110

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TEN LUCIAN’S POV

By the time my assistant said the breach had been internal, the room had already gone quiet enough to hear people thinking.

I didn’t turn. I didn’t need to.

I kept my eyes on Eva.

Not the version of her I thought I knew-the polished, composed woman who knew exactly what to say and when to say it—but the one standing in front of me now. The one who had just wished another human being dead without hesitation. Without restraint.

There was a difference; a subtle one. But now that I had seen it, I couldn’t unsee it.

Inside.

The word settled slowly.

Not external, not random, not by chance.

Someone had done this from within my house, using my system, during an event held under my

mother’s name.

My gaze shifted slightly_not away from Eva, but through her. Past the performance. Past the carefully controlled anger.

I watched for what she couldn’t control.

Her shoulders had stiffened slightly. The rise and fall of her breathing was too measured, as if she was forcing it into rhythm. As if she was forcing herself to remain calm. }

Her eyes held mine, and I could see the calculation flickering through her eyes, clear as day.

She didn’t look shocked. She looked careful.

That was the problem.

She let out a soft, amused laugh then, light and dismissive in a way that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “So now what?” she asked, raising her arms from her side. “You think I sabotaged your own house?”

No one else in the room moved. No one else spoke.

They were all listening. Waiting.

I didn’t answer her question. Instead, I turned slightly toward my assistant. “Who else had access?”

It wasn’t even directed at Eva.

That was intentional. I need to see if she would crack even further.

My assistant straightened immediately. “Internal systems were accessible to senior staff and event

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management, sir. Temporary access could have been granted to vendors through-”

“Pull the logs,” I cut in. “All internal access within the last six hours. Cross-check with vendor entry times. I want a full match against the outage window.”

“Yes, sir.” My assistant replied.

Movement resumed around the room, faster now.

Even through the sound of keyboards, phones and quiet instructions, I could feel her watching me.

“Lucian,” Eva called, sharper this time. “This is ridiculous.”

I finally looked at her then. “Is it?”

The words were quiet, but it took whatever defense Eva had, out of her mouth for a moment.

She held my gaze for a second too long, as if trying to read what I wasn’t saying.

Well, that would be reaching for something beyond her grasp. Because I wouldn’t give her anything.

I stepped away from the table and walked toward her slowly, my pace measured, unhurried. Not aggressive, and definitely not erratic. Controlled.

“I gave instructions,” I said, my voice stern and even as the distance between us shrunk. “Clear ones.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but I continued before she could.

“You didn’t take over the event,” I added. “You only adjusted the seating- a minor change.”

I noticed her jaw tighten slightly.

“And somehow,” I said, stopping just in front of her, “the only person placed directly under that structure

I paused, letting the silence intensify.

“…was Claire.”

The name hung between us-heavy and deliberate.

For a moment, Eva said nothing.

Then she exhaled softly, shaking her head as if I had disappointed her. “You’re reaching,” she said. “You think I would do something like that?”

Her tone shifted into something softer she spoke. But I didn’t let it get to me. That was probably one of her calculated tactics.

“You think I would hurt someone,” she continued, “while carrying your child?”

There it was.

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MEP ANDY MEN JURIANTON

The card she always played when she needed to shift the narrative.

Vulnerability. Leverage.

I studied small, made-up face. Really studied it.

The fact that I used to believe every word she said, made my stomach churn.

“I think,” I said slowly, “you’re capable of more than you pretend.”

Something in her expression faltered.

Just for a second. Then it was gone. She regained her composure immediately.

“You’re going too far,” she, her tone laced with a warning.

I turned away from her. “Not far enough.”

My assistant stepped closer, her tablet in hand, ready to speak-

And then her phone rang.

The sound cut through the room sharply, slicing through whatever tension had settled there.

She pulled the phone out of her pocket, glanced at the screen, hesitated, then looked up at me.

“Sir… it’s the hospital.” She stated.

I faced her fully. “Put it on speaker.”

She did.

Then a voice came through-controlled, professional, but noticeably strained.

“Mr. Dhark, this is Doctor Smoak. There’s been an incident.”

My expression didn’t change. “What kind of incident?”

A pause.

“Ms. Claire regained consciousness briefly,” the doctor said. “She became… agitated.”

Agitated.

The word didn’t sound right. It didn’t sound like Claire.

“She attempted to remove her IV and leave the room,” he continued.

That made my whole body still.

The whole room seemed to pause.

“She what?” I asked quietly, unsure of whether I had heard him correctly or not.

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“We had to restrain her,” the doctor said. “For her safety. She appeared disoriented-possibly reacting to the head injury. It presented like… a psychological episode.”

A psychological episode.

I didn’t respond immediately.

Claire didn’t panic. She didn’t act without reason.

Not like that.

Not ever.

This wasn’t instability. Perhaps… perhaps it was instinct.

“And now?” I asked the most rational question- the only one that mattered.

“She’s been sedated. She’s stable.”

Sedated.

The thought of that made my hand curl into a fist by my side.

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