The Wife he threw Away (Claire and Lucian) novel Chapter 111

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND ELEVEN LUCIAN’S POV

By the time the car pulled up to the hospital, the flashing lights from cameras were already blinding.

Cameras. Reporters. Microphones.

Voices calling my name like it should mean something to me in that moment.

It didn’t.

The driver barely had time to stop completely before I stepped out, in a hurry to reach Claire and find out what the hell had actually happened.

Security tried to push the press back, but they surged forward anyway, questions overlapping, voices loud, sharp and relentless.

“Mr. Dhark, is it true-”

“Was it an accident or-”

“Are you still involved with your ex-wife-”

I didn’t slow down.

Didn’t look at them.

Didn’t acknowledge a single word.

They were asking questions. And I didn’t have time for answers.

Once I was inside, the shift in the atmosphere was immediate.

The noise dulled behind the glass doors, replaced by something quieter, more urgent-but no less tense. Nurses moved faster when they saw me. Conversations cut short. Eyes followed, then quickly looked

away.

Recognition spread quickly without a word being spoken.

I walked straight to the front desk.

“Where is she?”

The receptionist blinked, clearly caught between protocol and pressure. “Sir, if you could just-”

“Claire Moreau,” I said, my voice low but leaving no room for delay. “Where is she?”

The receptionist immediately started moving her shaky fingers quickly over the keyboard. “She’s in the private trauma wing, third floor. Room-”

I was already walking before she finished.

The ride in the elevator was plain torture. It felt too slow. Too confined.

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Every second seemed to stretch longer than it should have.

The moment the doors finally opened, I was already moving again.

A doctor was waiting outside Claire’s room.

He straightened immediately he saw me, but there was something in his expression I didn’t like He seemed too careful. Too prepared.

“Mr. Dhark,” he began.

“Explain.” I immediately demanded. No greeting, no preamble- therr was no need for it.

He nodded once. “As I mentioned on the phone, Ms. Moreau regained consciousness briefly. She appeared disoriented, which is expected given the head trauma-”

“What triggered it?” I cut in.

A pause.

“She became agitated,” he rambled. “Attempted to remove her IV and leave the room. For her own safety. we had to restrain her and administer sedation.”

I held his gaze. “Claire is neither irrational nor a lunatic!” I stated, feeling my temper rise. “She wouldn’t just do that.”

Another pause followed- longer this time.

The doctor shrugged, clearly short of words and perhaps a little hesitant to argue with a man like me.

“Mr. Dhark, you must understand that patients react differently to trauma,” he stated carefully.

That wasn’t an answer. That was avoidance.

My jaw tightened slightly, but I didn’t press further. Not yet.

I pushed past him and walked into the room.

The difference hit immediately.

Outside had been movement, tension, and noise beneath the surface.

Inside-

Inside was complete stillness.

Claire lay on the bed, unmoving. Too still.

The lights were dimmed, casting shadows across her face that made her look paler than she should have been.

There were small cuts along her arms, faint but visible. Her dark hair was slightly disheveled, like

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someone had tried to fix it and failed.

The IV line was still in place.

Her hand rested beside it, but I noticed it immediately-

A faint redness around her wrist.

Not enough to alarm someone who wasn’t looking. But enough for me.

They had held her down.

Something cold settled in my chest and I felt the rage building up again.

I stepped closer, my gaze moving over the details with precision.

The line, the tape, the angle.

Everything looked correct.

Too correct.

Like it had been fixed after something went wrong.

“She said she didn’t feel safe.”

Nathaniel’s voice came from behind me.

I didn’t turn immediately.

I didn’t need to. I had already heard enough.

That confirmed it.

I looked back at Claire.

“She wasn’t unstable,” I said quietly.

No one responded.

I turned slowly, facing the doctor again.

“Who authorized the sedation?” I enquired.

“It was a medical decision-”

“Who,” I repeated, my voice colder now, “made it.”

The hesitation this time was a mistake.

A clear one.

“It was administered by the attending nurse,” he said. “But authorized by me. Because you instructed us

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to keep her here; safe.”

“Yet she didn’t feel safe.”

Nathaniel stepped forward slightly. “She was trying to leave,” he said. “Not panicking, not confused She knew what she was doing.”

I looked at him then.

There was no doubt in his expression. Only certainty and concern.

For her.

I filed that away for later.

Right now, it only reinforced what I already knew.

I straightened slowly. “Check the logs again,” I ordered. “Every person who entered this room. Not just assigned staff.”

My assistant nodded, already moving.

A few minutes later, she returned, her expression tighter than before.

“Sir… there’s a discrepancy.”

Of course therr was.

“Say it.”

“There’s a gap in the log.” She informed. “One entry without a matching ID. It was cleared manually.”

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