The Wife he threw Away (Claire and Lucian) novel Chapter 32

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO_ CLAIRE’S POV

Margot didn’t speak immediately after I finished reading the document.

She simply watched me.

The office was quiet in that deliberate way expensive places always were – thick glass walls, the sound

of footsteps outside, the distant hum of conversations.

The file rested open on the desk between Margot and I.

My name stared back at me.

So did Lucian’s.

After reading through it a couple times, I gently closed the file.

“I assume,” Margot finally said, folding her hands together in front of her, “you understand what challenging a prenuptial agreement actually means.”

Her voice wasn’t discouraging, but it was very careful.

I nodded once. “It means a fight.” I replied.

“It means risk,” she corrected calmly. “A great one.”

She leaned back into her chair. “The Dhark legal team will not treat this lightly. They drafted that agreement to be nearly untouchable.” She stated.

“I know how corporate governance works.” She continued. “And an empire like Dhark Holdings? You should know better than anyone, that if we proceed, they will come prepared to dismantle your credibility, your motives, and your character.”

The words should have frightened me.

And surely, they would have, once. But not now.

Margot continued, watching my reaction closely.

“There is no guarantee you would win, Claire. I won’t pretend otherwise. This is fifty-fifty at best. You could walk away with nothing less than nothing, depending on legal costs and media reaction.” She stated bluntly.

Silence settled between us.

–

I knew it was true. Challenging the prenup was a great risk. If I win, I would get the financial stability I deserved. The security I deserved.

And if I lose… well, I didn’t have much to lose.

A month ago, I would have asked if there was a safer option.

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AND CLAIRES POV

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Now, the question didn’t even cross my mind.

“In this world,” I said quietly, “you don’t go down without a fight.”

Margot’s expression shifted. But it wasn’t exactly surprise. It was more like she had just recognized something in me she hadn’t seen before.

She gave a small nod, as though confirming something she had already suspected.

“Well,” she said, reaching for her pen, “that answers that.”

“There’s something else.” I said before she could continue.

Margot paused, lifting her brows slightly.

“The press has been contacting me nonstop. They want statements, interviews… clarification about the tea party.” I exhaled slowly. “Lucian’s team too, has been bombarding me with calls and mails. They want to arrange a press conference.”

“No.” Margot immediately said. Her tone was firm.

I blinked. “No?”

“For the first time,” she said, leaning forward, “public sympathy is moving toward you. Do you know how rare that is in situations like this?”

I didn’t answer. Because I did know.

I had seen the headlines, the commentary… the subtle shift in tone.

Margot continued. “If you speak now, you risk reducing the sympathy in your direction. The public tends to fill silence with their own conclusions, and right now, those conclusions are in your favour, not Mr. Dhark and Ms. Sterling’s.”

I shifted slightly in my chair. “It feels… dishonest, letting them take all the backlash.”

Margot’s gaze softened just a little bit.

“Claire,” she started gently. “Lucian and Eva held a press conference designed to destroy your reputation.” 2

Her words triggered the memory, lifting it to the surface. I felt bile rise in my throat again.

“This is not manipulation.” Margot stated. “It’s consequence. Call it karma if you may.”

She held my gaze now. “All you have to do… is nothing.”

I let that sink in.

What Margot said actually made a lot of sense.

For so long, I had believed silence meant weakness. But now, it felt like strategy.

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Margot opened a new folder and turned it toward me.

“If you’re certain,” she said, “we file today.”

My heart steadied.

“I’m certain.”

She slid the papers forward, and I signed where she indicated.

Each stroke of the pen felt strangely calm – not reckless, not emotional, but decisive.

I knew that I was doing the right thing. And that conviction is what steadied my hand and my heart as I signed.

Margot gathered the documents neatly after I had finished signing.

“The court has scheduled a preliminary hearing for next week,” she said. “This is only the beginning.”

By the time I returned home, dusk had settled over the estate.

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

There were no staff moving through the halls. No distant conversation. Just the faint echo of my own footsteps as I walked upstairs.

Something felt… wrong.

I noticed that my bedroom door was slightly open.

I pushed it wider and stepped inside.

Lucian stood inside my bedroom, near the window, still wearing his suit from work. Obviously, he had just returned.

He wasn’t moving, he wasn’t pacing. He didn’t seem angry.

For a moment, I simply stared.

That’s when I noticed a document in his hand.

The court notice. From the looks of it, he had already read it.

He turned toward me very slowly.

His expression was controlled – perfectly composed – but something beneath it had shifted. Something I couldn’t quite identify, was burning beneath his eyes.

“You’re taking this to court,” he said.

It wasn’t a question.

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