Three years of loving him, three days to erase myself from his world novel Chapter 123

Phoebe's private estate was nestled high in the mountains, surrounded by breathtaking peaks. Even from a distance, the architecture was majestic. Since it was the dead of winter, The Wintersweet Arboretum that bordered the property was in full bloom, painting the landscape in stunning hues.

When Clara arrived, she was captivated by the lush, blooming wintersweets. She couldn't help but stop and admire the view.

That is, until a sickly familiar voice echoed from behind her. "Wow, you got here fast. I guess when you're desperate to steal someone else's credit, you make sure to run."

Seraphina.

Clara stiffened. She hadn't expected the spoiled girl to actually show up. Her good mood instantly soured. She turned around, fixing Seraphina with an icy glare, and fired back.

"Are you talking about yourself? Weren't you supposedly so injured you were bedridden in the hospital? What are you doing prancing around here?"

Seraphina choked on her own words, her cheeks flushing bright red.

Clara let out a cold scoff, refusing to waste another breath on her, and continued toward the estate gates.

Seeing Clara walk away, a lump of frustration caught in Seraphina's throat. But then a vicious thought crossed her mind, and her irritation melted into a smug smirk. She strutted forward, her voice dripping with mockery.

"Say whatever you want. We both know who the guilty one here is. Let's see if you can keep up that shameless poker face when we're standing in front of Ms. Shaw. Then I'll be impressed."

Clara's face remained utterly impassive.

Seraphina pressed on. "Look, I know you're bitter. But Julian was the one who told you to do my share of the work, not me."

Clara's eyelashes fluttered slightly, her lips pressed into a tight, silent line.

Seraphina let out a silvery laugh, tilting her head as she suddenly changed the subject.

"By the way, did you enjoy your lunch today?"

Clara's expression shifted. She stopped in her tracks, delivering a glacial warning. "Seraphina, that's enough."

Seraphina completely ignored her, her smirk widening into something downright malicious. "I was the one who told Julian to pack that lunch for you! And after you just snapped at me like that... Do you have even an ounce of gratitude?"

What?

The words hit Clara like a physical blow, leaving her completely blindsided. She stood frozen on the spot, the color draining from her face until she was ghostly pale.

That lunch.

Julian hadn't even packed it for her. Seraphina had.

...There was no cruelty quite like this.

What was she to Julian? Did she mean anything to him at all?

Clara bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted copper. A humiliating tremor ran through her shoulders, and faint, blue veins pulsed at the corners of her eyes as sheer, unadulterated fury took over.

Seeing Clara look so utterly devastated, Seraphina flashed a silent, triumphant smirk. She walked past her, deliberately slamming her shoulder hard against Clara's as she went.

Clara didn't have time to dodge. The harsh impact forced a muffled groan from her lips, her face turning even paler.

Forcing down her temper, Seraphina hurried to catch up.

The main house was a fair walk from the front gates. The winding path was flanked by rows of gorgeous wintersweets, a sprawling, breathtaking sea of yellow blooms. It was obvious the owner cherished them deeply.

Seraphina scanned the lush garden, a dark, calculating thought taking root in her mind.

They finally reached the main house.

Jackson guided them inside, his voice softening as he spoke to Phoebe, who was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, chatting with someone.

"Ms. Shaw, Manager Vance is here."

Once again, he completely omitted her name. Seraphina ground her teeth.

Clara walked forward with composed grace. She was just about to greet her when her eyes landed on the man standing beside Phoebe. She froze instantly.

Dominic Jarrett?!

Through the massive windows, the man was framed perfectly. He wore a dark, impeccably tailored suit, one hand casually tucked into his pocket. He stood tall and unyielding, his aura so intensely commanding that even from a distance, he inspired an intimidating reverence that made people want to step back.

As if sensing her presence, his sharp instincts kicked in. He turned his head, his gaze colliding straight with Clara's.

He narrowed his eyes. Those bottomless, ink-black depths felt like a dark abyss, impossible to read.

Clara's eyes flickered, her spine unconsciously pulling taut.