The Wife he threw Away (Claire and Lucian) novel Chapter 176

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-SIX EVA’S POV

My penthouse felt less like a home and more like a luxury showroom.

White marble floors, fresh orchids arranged perfectly on glass tables, perfect floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.

Soft instrumental music drifted through the speakers while three stylists moved around me carefully like I was royalty.

And in every way that mattered, I was.

“Not that shade,” I said sharply without looking up from my phone. “Do I look forty to you?”

The makeup artist went pale. “No, Miss Sterling. Of course not.”

The woman’s ignorance was wearing my patience thin.

I held out my right hand. “Then stop contouring me like someone’s divorced mother.”

The room fell quieter after that.

A stylist hurried forward with another dress while I sat close to the vanity in a silk robe, my long legs crossed elegantly as I picked through a bowl of chilled fruit.

I ate absentmindedly while scanning through event updates for the Langford Foundation Gala.

Major networks would be present tonight.

So would investors, executives and politicians.

And of course, Lucian.

I couldn’t help but smile faintly at the thought.

Despite everything-despite the scandal-Lucian Dhark would still dominate the room.

He always did.

And once this entire disaster settled, he would remember where he truly belonged:

Beside someone powerful. Someone ambitious.

Beside me.

Not Claire Moreau.

Claire had become irritatingly difficult to erase.

Especially after the televised Langford vs Virex case.

And how could I forget the time she defended Lucian publicly, to the press?

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Stupid.

And worse, Lucian still cared about her- deeply.

I could see it clearly.

And I hated it.

My phone rang suddenly on the vanity table.

Dr. Ramon.

I answered immediately, although I would rather be talking to a dog.

“What?”

The doctor sounded frantic immediately. “Miss Sterling, there’s a complaint filed against me.”

I almost dropped the fruit bowl.

“What are you talking about?”

“KVEK,” he replied shakily. “Nathaniel Vale. They filed with the medical board this morning. Forgery. Medical falsification. Abuse of professional authority-”

I sat up slowly.

The room around seemed to grow colder instantly.

“What?”

“I-I don’t understand how they found out,” Ramon stammered desperately. “I covered everything

carefully-”

“You incompetent fool,” I snapped, making the makeup artist nearby visibly flinched.

If I didn’t have more pressing matters, I might have thrown a word or two her way.

Ramon’s breathing turned uneven.

“They’re going to revoke my license,” he whispered. “I could lose everything.”

I stood abruptly from the vanity chair, and started walking toward the windows.

God, this was a full blown mess.

How?

How had Nathaniel Vale found out?

Margot Sinclair was still unconscious- if she had woken up, it would have reached my ears already.

Which meant-

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Claire Moreau.

Or Nathaniel.

Somehow, they had found something.

But what exactly had they found out? How much had they discovered?

My thoughts spiraled rapidly.

Had Margot hidden copies? Had she told Claire something before the accident? Showed her the file perhaps?

No.

Impossible.

Unless… my stomach twisted unpleasantly for the first time in days- even more than it had when the cops had showed up at my door.

Whatever Claire knew, Nathaniel knew too.

And vice versa.

Ramon was still rambling fearfully through the phone.

“What do I do? Should I deny everything? Should I leave the country temporarily-”

I cut him off. “I don’t care what happens to you.” I stated. Perhaps it was harsh, but it was true.

“As long as I’m not dragged down with you.”

Ramon sounded horrified. “Miss Sterling-”

“You should’ve been smarter.”

Then I hung up without letting him say another word.

The silence afterward felt suffocating.

One stylist approached cautiously, whilst holding a silver gown.

“Miss Sterling, should we prepare this one for tonight-”

I turned sharply.

“Can nobody in this room think independently?”

The stylist froze.

I snatched the gown violently from her hands.

“Useless.”

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The woman’s face reddened immediately.

Another assistant hurried forward nervously.

“Should I bring champagne, Miss Sterling?”

“No,” I snapped, growing more irritated by the minute. “I’d rather not drink something prepared by someone trembling this much.”

No one spoke after that.

Good.

I paced slowly toward the fireplace area, fury simmering beneath my skin.

This gala mattered.

Tonight mattered.

Because if Nathaniel Vale truly had enough evidence… if Dr. Ramon broke under pressure…

Everything would surely collapse.

My endorsements, my contracts, my reputation.

Even my fans would turn against me.

My career would die even faster than Elise’s.

And the headlines-

God, I could already imagine them.

“National sweetheart exposed.”

“False infertility conspiracy by Eva Sterling.”

“Actress tied to medical fraud.”

My stomach turned violently then.

No.

Absolutely not!

That could never happen.

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