The Wife he threw Away (Claire and Lucian) novel Chapter 75

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE CLAIRE’S POV

The courtroom felt different when Margot and I walked in that morning.

Not louder, not quieter. Just… final.

Because this would be my last day battling Lucian in court.

My last day being a spectacle.

Today would either end in triumph, or defeat.

I the way conversations softened instead of stopped as Margot and I walked. The way people looked at me-not with outright judgment anymore, but with something more that resembled curiosity. 1

They weren’t sure what to think of me now.

Good.

I walked past them without slowing, without acknowledging the cameras, the whispers, the weight of attention that had followed me for weeks.

But today, it didn’t press down on me the same way anymore. It didn’t feel suffocating.

Today, it felt distant.

Like something I had already survived.

Margot’s files were arranged neatly on our table when we reached it.

Margot glanced at me briefly as we took our seats.

“We’re on time,” she confirmed.

Across the room, Victoria Merlyn stood beside Lucian, speaking quietly to him. Her posture was as polished as ever, and although I couldn’t hear her, I was sure her tone was sharp and deliberate. She didn’t look worried even one bit. 1

But then again, neither did Margot. Lawyers never let their nerves show.

Lucian stood beside Victoria, still and unreadable. 1

I didn’t want my gaze to linger on him, so I turned forward instead.

This wasn’t about watching him anymore.

This was about finishing something I had started.

The courtroom filled gradually, seats occupied one by one, until the low murmur of voices settled into a tense quiet.

When the judge finally entered, everyone rose in unison.

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SENTY FIVE CLAIRES POV

+25 Bonus

Then we sat again.

No one spoke immediately. There were no theatrics, no dramatic openings. Just the quiet efficiency of a system already in motion. 1

Victoria stood first.

Her closing was exactly what I expected;

Controlled, clean and structured.

She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to.

She spoke about the prenup-its validity, its clarity, the fact that it had been entered into willingly. She framed everything as simple, almost obvious. A matter of law, not emotion.

Then, subtly, she layered in everything else.

Patterns, public incidents, my “behavior.”

She didn’t lay out any direct accusations. But her implications were very clear and carefully placed.

Enough for anyone listening to connect the dots themselves.

By the time she sat down, the narrative she had built felt complete.

Margot rose next.

Her tone was different.

Still controlled-but sharper.

She didn’t try to outplay Victoria theatrically. She simply dismantled the lies piece by piece.

She spoke about context and manipulation. About how easily narratives could be shaped when the right pieces were shown-and when the wrong ones hidden.

She didn’t beg for sympathy or appeal for the jury’s emotion, but she simply made it clear that what had been presented to the world-and even to this court-was not as clean as it had been made to seem.

That truth, when filtered, stopped being truth at all.

When she finished, she sat down without looking at me.

It wasn’t necessary.

I already understood.

Silence followed.

Not empty.

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TRACES SEVENTY FIVE, CLAIRES POV

Heavy.

The judge glanced down at the documents before him, then back up.

And just like that-

it was time.

Everything seemed to slow.

The faint rustle of paper.

The shift of someone in the gallery.

The quiet hum of the air conditioning overhead.

I became aware of all of it at once.

Of my own breathing.

Of the steady beat of my heart.

Of the fact that this moment-this single, measured moment-would decide how everything was

concluded.

Not what it meant.

But how it would be recorded.

The judge began to speak.

His voice was even. Professional. Detached.

He referenced the arguments presented. The validity of the agreement. The legal framework

surrounding it.

Each word landed exactly as it was meant to;

Clear and precise. Devoid of emotions or sympathy.

Then the ruling.

The prenuptial agreement would be upheld.

Legally binding and enforceable.

The terms would stand exactly as written.

I would receive the financial settlement outlined within it.

One million for every five years of marriage.

That was it.

+25 Bonus

3/5

VECANY SPON

+25 Bonus

No hesitation. No room for interpretation or objection.

Just law.

A quiet murmur rippled through the courtroom. Subtle. Contained. People reacting in low voices, careful not to disrupt the formality of the moment.

I didn’t turn.

I didn’t need to see their faces to know what they were thinking.

Margot leaned slightly toward me.

“We expected this,” she said quietly.

Maybe she had. 1

Maybe I had, too.

Across the room, Victoria remained composed. No visible satisfaction, no unnecessary reaction. Just a slight shift in posture, a quiet confirmation of what she had already anticipated- Professional and

controlled.

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