The Wife he threw Away (Claire and Lucian) novel Chapter 330

I couldn’t get out of that courtroom fast enough.

The moment the judge adjourned the hearing, I gathered my things and walked out without looking at anyone. I could feel the reporters’ eyes following me, and hear their whispers behind me.

I hated them.

I hated the cameras, the questions, the judgment in their eyes. Most of all, I hated the fact that every single person in that courtroom seemed to believe Claire Moreau was some kind of saint while I was the villain in her little sob story.

Claire had stood there with her perfect posture and that infuriatingly composed expression, insinuating things about me as though she had never done anything wrong in her entire life.

The woman had a talent for making herself look like a saint.

I pushed through the courthouse doors and spotted my lawyers waiting beside the black SUV parked near the entrance. My lead attorney, Mr. Harrison, was speaking to his associate when he noticed me approaching.

He immediately opened the rear door.

I climbed inside, threw my handbag onto the seat beside me, and waited until the others had settled into the vehicle before I started speaking.

“What the hell was that?” I asked through gritted teeth.

Harrison turned toward me. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t play stupid with me, Harrison. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” I glared at him. “You spent half that hearing arguing with Claire instead of dismantling her case. She practically had you on the defensive the entire time.”

His jaw tightened. “Claire Moreau did not get the better of me.”

“Oh, really?” I gave him a humorless laugh. “Because from where I was sitting, it looked very much like she did.”

“She’s an insolent pup who has mistaken confidence for competence,” he said, his voice growing sharper. “The only reason she has been allowed to speak with such audacity in that courtroom is because of Margot Sinclair’s influence. Without that woman’s reputation standing behind her, Claire wouldn’t have been granted half the liberties she’s taken.”

I arched a brow. “Then perhaps you should have reminded her of that instead of allowing her to make you look like a fool.”

Harrison’s expression darkened.

For a moment, I thought he might actually say something worth hearing. Instead, he just leaned back in his seat and adjusted his tie.

“We are dealing with a courtroom, Ms. Sterling, not a publicity event. Insulting opposing counsel would not have helped our position.”

“Neither did watching her tear our defense apart.”

“We have not lost.”

“Not yet.” I retorted, then turned toward the window, watching the courthouse disappear behind us as the driver pulled into traffic.

My reflection stared back at me from the tinted glass. Came into the courthouse looking very pretty. Now I simply looked exhausted.

The past few weeks had been hell. My name had become synonymous with lies, manipulation, and scandal. Every news outlet seemed determined to remind the world of what I’d done, and the more evidence Claire presented, the more people appeared convinced that I was guilty.

I had spent years building my image. Years making people admire, envy and worship me.

And now, a woman who had once been nothing more than an obstacle in my relationship with Lucian was dismantling everything I had worked for.

I turned away from the window. “Tell me something, Harrison.”

He turned to me reluctantly. “What is it?”

“Do I still have a chance?”

He frowned. “A chance at what?”

I stared at him.

“Don’t insult my intelligence. Do you think we can still win this case? Can I still walk out of that courtroom innocent?”

The silence that followed was immediate.

Harrison glanced at his associate.

The younger man suddenly became fascinated with the documents resting on his lap.

I noticed the exchange.

My stomach tightened.

“Well?” I demanded. “I’m waiting.”

Harrison exhaled slowly.

“If you want my honest assessment, your chances are very slim.”

For a moment, I thought I had misheard him.

“Excuse me?”

“The evidence against you is substantial. Dr. Ramon has testified that you paid him to falsify Claire’s medical records. Hart has corroborated several allegations against you, and the messages recovered from his phone appear to support his testimony. The prosecution also has financial records that may establish connections between you and certain incidents.”

He paused.

“Unless we can successfully challenge the admissibility or credibility of that evidence, securing an acquittal will be difficult.”

Difficult.

He made it sound as though I had asked him to win a minor argument.

I stared at him, my fingers curling around the strap of my handbag.

“And you’re telling me this now?”

“I have been telling you from the beginning that the case would be complicated.”

“No. You’ve been telling me that you could handle it.”

“We can still challenge the prosecution’s evidence.”

“But you just said my chances are very slim!”

“Because I won’t lie to you about the situation.”

I laughed.

It wasn’t a pleasant sound.

“So that’s what all my money has bought me? A man who sits in a courtroom, argues with an insolent little lawyer, and then tells me I’m probably going to prison?”

“Ms. Sterling—”

“Do you have any idea how much I’ve paid your firm?”

His expression hardened. “Yes, I do.”

“Then perhaps you understand why I’m disappointed.”

I leaned toward him, lowering my voice.

“I hired you because I expected results. I expected you to protect me, to find weaknesses in their case, and to make sure that woman couldn’t stand in front of a judge and destroy my life. Instead, you sit there and tell me my chances are slim.”

“We are doing everything legally available to us.”

“Then perhaps I should have hired someone better.”

The associate shifted uncomfortably.

Harrison stared at me for several seconds before looking away.

“If you believe another attorney can do better, you’re free to seek a second opinion. But I would strongly advise you not to make decisions out of anger.”

I smiled at him.

“How thoughtful of you.”

“Eva, listen to me. Whatever happens in that courtroom, you must not do anything that could make your situation worse. No contact with witnesses. No attempts to intimidate Claire or anyone connected to the case. No retaliation.”

I tilted my head.

“Are you giving me legal advice or threatening to abandon me?”

“I’m telling you that anything you do now could become evidence against you. The prosecution is already looking for connections between you and the incidents they have accused you of orchestrating. If something happens to Claire, Margot, or anyone else involved in this case, and it can be linked to you, it could be disastrous.”

He held my gaze.

“Do you understand?”

I looked at him for a long moment.

Then I smiled.

“Of course.”

He didn’t look convinced.

He shouldn’t have been.

Because I had heard every word he said, and I understood exactly what he meant.

I simply didn’t care.

⸻

By the time I arrived home, my anger had settled into something much colder.

Anger was loud. It made people careless. It made them say things they couldn’t take back and do things they would later regret.

I had no intention of making another mistake. After dismissing the driver, I walked into my house, and dropped my handbag on the console table. The silence inside was suffocating.

Once, I had loved coming home to a quiet house. It gave me room to think, room to breathe, room to escape the endless demands of being Eva Sterling.

Now, the silence only reminded me of everything I was about to lose.

My career was hanging by a thread, my reputation was in ruins, and the man I had spent years trying to win back had chosen another woman.

And that woman was carrying his child.

The thought alone sent a wave of hatred through me.

For years, I had imagined what it would be like to have Lucian’s baby. I had imagined him holding our child, looking at me with the kind of love I had always wanted from him. I knew that wasn’t possible, but I was allowed to dream.

I had built a story around that dream. A story designed to make Lucian feel responsible for me, to make him remember the woman he had once loved.

It had almost worked. Until Claire appeared again, and everything fell apart.

Now Claire was genuinely pregnant.

She didn’t have to invent anything. She didn’t have to manipulate anyone into believing a story. She had the one thing I had always wanted.

Lucian’s child.

I gripped the banister until my knuckles whitened.

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