The Wife he threw Away (Claire and Lucian) novel Chapter 202

CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND TWO_ EVA’S POV

My birthday was six days away.

Normally, that would have been the only thing occupying my mind.

I had been planning the party for months.

Invitations had been sent out yesterday and this morning. The guest list was impeccable; A list actors, directors, producers, athletes, socialites, influencers-everyone worth knowing would be there.

Or at least they were supposed to be.

I stood before a floor-length mirror while a stylist adjusted the waist of the silver designer gown that had just arrived this morning.

The dress was supposed to be stunning. It was supposed to have made me happy.

Instead, I found myself staring at my reflection with growing irritation.

“No,” I snapped at the stylist, who immediately took a step back.

“Miss Sterling?”

“The neckline.”

She looked confused, the incompetent fool.

“The neckline is exactly what you approved.” She said.

I scrunched my nose up. “Then I changed my mind.”

The woman nodded quickly and moved away.

Assistants moved through the room around me, carrying garments and jewelry cases.

Luxury brands had been sending gifts all week- diamond earrings, custom shoes and designer handbags.

Every surface in the room was covered in expensive things- as it should be.

A birthday like mine wasn’t just a mere celebration. It was an event. A statement.

Proof that I was the most beautiful… the most influential… the most untouchable.

Eva Sterling’s birthday parties had always been iconic. This one was meant to be no different.

My phone buzzed, interrupting my thought.

One of my assistants glanced at the screen, and just before I could snap at her for being nosy, I noticed the change in her expression.

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The change was slight, but for me to notice.

Today was a happy day, no one had reason to frown- not even my airhead assistant.

“What?” I asked, irritated.

She hesitated before speaking. “There’s a live press conference.”

I barely looked up. “So?”

“It’s Lucian Dhark.”

My stomach tightened immediately.

My head shot up. “What kind of press conference?”

“We’re not sure.”

That alone was enough.

I held out my hand, and my assistant practically ran to give me the phone.

A live broadcast was already underway- a Dhark Holdings emergency press conference.

For a second, I felt only incredibly annoyed.

Then came the relief. Because finally- finally Lucian was doing what I expected him to do so long ago.

A denial. A corporate response. A carefully managed statement.

That was who Lucian was; proud, controlled and calculated.

His pride had always been predictable.

It was the one thing I had relied on throughout this entire scandal.

No matter what happened, Lucian Dhark would never publicly admit he had been fooled for so long.

Never.

He would rather die.

Then he began speaking. And within five minutes, I realized my calculations had been terribly wrong.

Lucian spared no details. He spoke about the infertility fraud. The fake pregnancy. Dr. Ramon. The money I had taken with Theo’s help.

Everything.

Everything.

Everything.

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And when he said “Eva Sterling is a dangerous criminal”, my knees nearly gave out.

“No.” The word left me as a whisper.

The room had gone completely silent.

Every assistant, stylist and makeup artist was staring at the television.

Every single person had been stunned into silence. No one could say a word.

No one but Lucian. He kept talking.

He literally wouldn’t stop talking!

And every sentence felt like another crack appearing beneath my feet.

No.

No.

No!

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

The entire strategy… my entire plan had depended on one small, simple thing:

Lucian’s pride.

His pride should have protected me. His pride should have ensured he kept his mouth shut. His pride should have stopped this.

Instead, he had sacrificed it.

And for what?

For the truth?

I stared at the screen in disbelief.

Pathetic. Lucian was useless and a fool. He had ruined everything by opening his mouth!

A man willing to humiliate himself publicly was infinitely more dangerous than a proud one.

My phone began vibrating again.

And again.

And again.

I ignored it.

Until the notifications started flooding in so fast I couldn’t restrain myself from reading them.

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I picked up my phone- news alerts filled the screen. Messages, notifications, hundreds of articles mentioning my name.

I opened social media and instantly regretted it.

The headlines were multiplying in real time.

“WAS EVA STERLING’S MISCARRIAGE EVER EVEN REAL?”

“FORMER DOCTOR MISSING AFTER DHARK HOLDINGS LAWSUIT”

“QUESTIONS MOUNT OVER ACTRESS’S CLAIMS”

“CLAIRE MOREAU PUBLICLY CLEARED”

“NATIONAL SWEETHEART OR NATIONAL SCHEMER?”

I felt sick to my stomach.

Then I made the mistake of reading the comments.

“I always thought something felt off.”

“Remember when she made Claire work as a servant in the mansion?”

“No way she’s innocent.”

“This is insane if it’s true.”

“Poor Claire.”

“I feel terrible for Claire now.”

“Lucian was awful but this is next-level evil.”

I kept scrolling.

Desperately.

Looking for support.

For loyalty.

For outrage.

Instead I found hesitation.

Doubt.

Questions.

Even my fans sounded uncertain.

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And that terrified me more than hatred ever could.

Because hatred could be fought.

Doubt spread like poison.

I looked up suddenly.

The birthday.

God.

The birthday.

My heart began pounding.

No one would come.

No one.

Not actors.

Not producers.

Not directors.

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Not sponsors.

Not now.

Nobody wanted photographs beside a woman accused of fraud, theft, falsifying medical records and attempted murder.

A week ago my birthday party had been the event of the season.

Now it risked becoming a public humiliation.

Panic surged through me.

I grabbed my phone and called my manager immediately.

He answered on the second ring.

“Eva.”

“I want the movie reinstated.”

Silence.

Then:

“What?”

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“The movie.”

My voice rose.

“I’ll start shooting immediately. I’ll leave tonight if I have to.”

“Eva-”

“I postponed it because of everything that happened.”

I began pacing.

“The directors understood. The studio understood.”

“Things have changed.”

“No.”

I shook my head violently.

“No, they haven’t.”

“Eva.”

His voice had become cautious.

The way people spoke to unstable animals.

“You can’t leave the country.”

“What?”

“The lawsuit.”

I stopped walking.

“KVEK already advised against it.”

My stomach dropped.

“You may be required for proceedings.”

“No.”

I laughed.

A sharp, ugly sound.

“No.”

“There’s more.”

The hesitation in his voice made my blood run cold.

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“The studio is nervous.”

I already knew.

Before he said it.

I already knew.

“The project has been put on hold.”

Everything inside me went still.

“What?”

“Until your name is cleared.”

The room blurred.

I couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t think.

Couldn’t process what he was saying.

“The studio isn’t willing to invest in a film whose lead actress is involved in the biggest controversy in

the country.”

I ended the call without another word.

Then I screamed.

The sound tore itself out of my throat.

Raw.

Animal.

I grabbed the nearest vase and hurled it across the room.

Glass exploded against the wall.

Someone screamed.

I didn’t care.

Another vase.

Another.

A jewelry case.

A lamp.

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A chair.

Everything within reach.

Months.

Months of work.