The Wife he threw Away (Claire and Lucian) novel Chapter 116

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN MARGOT’S POV

By the time I stepped out of the hospital, I was no longer thinking like a friend.

Or even just a lawyer.

I was thinking like someone who had just been handed the outline of a case. Like someone who intended to win a battle.

The night air was cool, but it did nothing to settle the tension boiling beneath my skin. My heels struck the pavement as I walked, already pulling my phone from my bag without hesitation.

“Get me the team,” I said the moment the line I’d dialed connected.

“They’re already on standby,” my assistant replied.

“Good. Loop in investigations and regulatory.”

A pause.

Then, sharper, more alert-“Understood.” My assistant responded.

“This is no longer internal,” I continued. “An employee representing Sinclair & Co was involved in a targeted incident. I want a full investigation initiated immediately. Override all other protocols.”

“Targeted?” My assistant asked.

“Yes.” I replied impatiently.

Nothing grated on my nerves more than unnecessary delay.

“See to it that the team notifies the authorities,” I continued without pause. “And prepare a legal notice for Dhark Holdings. I’ll sign everything necessary.”

My assistant paused again, more careful this time. “On what grounds?”

I didn’t slow my steps of mince my words. “Negligence, at minimum,” I spoke firmly. “Obstruction, if they hesitate.”

Silence.

“I’ll get it drafted.” My assistant finally said. Good.

“If they don’t cooperate,” I said, my voice calm but unyielding, “we make them.”

I ended the call almost immediately.

And just like that, the machine was in motion.

I didn’t have to go far. 1

A car was already waiting. I slid into the back seat, closing the door quickly behind me, as my mind was

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already racing.

Because this wasn’t just about the collapse anymore.

That had been the event; the symptom. Not the cause.

I pulled out my tablet and opened the file I had reviewed countless times within the last hour.

Claire’s report.

The diagnosis that had changed everything. The one I should have never fully trusted.

Right now there was no real proof. No solid angle to attack it from. Just instinct-and instinct didn’t hold up in court.

But there was also something else- there was context.

I read through it again- through every line, every note.

My fingers stilled on the screen, right above the signature.

The name- the same one I had seen before. Not recently, but enough times to recognize a pattern.

I closed the file and opened another.

My file on Eva Sterling.

Years of collected information. Fragments of behavior; patterns, people.

And in there, buried among contacts and associations, was Edward Ramon. The same doctor.

My jaw tightened slightly before I closed the file again.

It wasn’t a coincidence. Nothing ever was.

I made another call- one that didn’t go through my office.

“Get me everything on Dr. Edward Ramon,” I said. “His full background, his professional history, any disciplinary actions. Quietly and discreetly.”

My associate on the other end didn’t ask questions.

“I’ll call you back.” He said.

I ended the call and leaned back slightly, my gaze fixed ahead but not really seeing anything. Because finally, the pieces were starting to align.

Claire’s diagnosis. Eva’s proximity. The timing.

If this was what I thought it was-

I exhaled slowly, not even completing the thought.

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No. Not yet- at least not without proof.

I would only go to Claire and the right authorities when I had all the pieces. I wouldn’t stir up an old wound just to be proven wrong.

Time passed before my phone rang again.

I answered immediately.

“There are irregularities,” was the first thing I was told. “Not enough to flag publicly, but enough to raise questions. Quiet complaints that tied back to him. Reports that didn’t quite hold under scrutiny, talk less of in front of a judge.”

A corrupt healthcare provider is exactly the kind of nightmare people dreaded. And bringing them to justice was nothing short of a tug of war.

I closed my eyes briefly, letting it all sink in. “Go on.”

“He’s been linked to a few altered medical evaluations. Nothing that stuck, because case disappeared

before it could be escalated.”

Of course they did.

“And recently?” I asked.

A pause. “Private clients. Only the high profile kind.”

My fingers tightened slightly around the phone.

“Connections?”

Another pause. “Indirect, but apparently consistent.”

Eva.

Of course.

I sat there for a moment after the call ended, letting the silence settle.

Because now…

Now the thought I had been avoiding was no longer something I could ignore.

Claire’s infertility… the diagnosis. The certainty it had carried.

What if it wasn’t real?

I opened my phone again, and took one last look at the report. At the signature. At everything Claire, Lucian Dhark and the general public had believed.

Everything they had accepted.

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Everything that had shaped their decisions.

And something in my chest tightened at the thought. Because I knew what that kind of damage a lie of that nature could do.

Not professionally-personally. Permanently.

And to think Eva engineered it all… Goodness!

As a woman, I understood exactly what that diagnosis meant.

What it took from you, what it made you believe about yourself. About your future… your worth.

You didn’t throw something like that into the air without absolute certainty.

And you certainly didn’t take it back lightly.

No.

Even though I wanted so badly to go back into that hospital room and blurt out the connection I had just discovered, to Claire and even Lucian… I couldn’t.

I wouldn’t bring this to Claire- not like this. Not without proof. Not without something solid enough to

stand on.

Because if I was wrong-

I would be reopening a wound that had barely begun to close.

And if I was right-

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