When they arrived at the estate, Clara’s breath caught in her throat. The mansion was perched atop a hill, a gleaming, modern structure of glass and white stone, expansive terraces cascading down toward the private beach. The endless horizon beyond seemed to merge the sky with the sea. Everything about the place screamed opulence, and Clara felt a little lost in its grandeur.
“This is…,” she began, struggling to find the words.
Adrian’s lips twitched slightly, perhaps his version of a smile. “It’s home for now.”
He took her hand, leading her through the grand entrance hall. The ceilings were high, and sunlight streamed in through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a golden glow on the marble floors. The house was lavish, with elegant furnishings and artwork adorning the walls, yet it felt cold—like a place built more for show than for warmth.
Adrian stood next to Clara as he introduced her to the staff of the Mykonos estate, each member of the household bowing slightly in respect. Clara tried to keep up with the introductions, nodding politely, though it was hard to remember all the names in the sea of faces. The formality of it all felt foreign to her, and she couldn’t shake the nervousness gnawing at the back of her mind.
As the last of the staff excused themselves, Adrian turned to her, his brow furrowing slightly. "Do you still have the black card I gave you?" he asked, his tone casual.
Clara hesitated for a moment, then sheepishly admitted, “I broke it in half when you left.”
Adrian blinked, momentarily taken aback, an awkward silence hanging between them. He cleared his throat and reached into his pocket, producing a sleek, new card. “Well, this is temporary. I’ll open an account under your name—your new name—and request your own card.”
Clara took the card, her fingers brushing his as she did so, feeling both appreciative and overwhelmed by the gesture. Adrian’s life—this life—was still so foreign to her. She barely understood the rules of this new world of wealth and power.
“The car and helicopter are always ready to take you wherever you want,” Adrian continued, as if he could sense her unease. “And the jet too, if you need it.”
Clara managed a small smile but couldn’t suppress the weight building in her chest. She glanced around the grand house, its walls towering around her like an elegant but impersonal fortress. The house was beautiful, but there was a coldness to it, a sterility that made her feel more like a visitor than someone who lived there. The emptiness echoed in every corner.
“The house…” she said softly, her voice trailing off. She hesitated, unsure if she should say what was really on her mind. Adrian’s eyes remained fixed on her, waiting for her to continue.
“It feels cold,” she confessed, finally. “And empty.”
Adrian tilted his head, considering her words. “If you want to refurbish it, make it your own, go ahead. I want you to be comfortable here.”
Clara nodded, her hands clutching the new card he’d given her, but her mind was far from furniture and decorations. She shifted on her feet, her fingers fidgeting slightly.
Adrian noticed the tension in her posture and narrowed his eyes, his voice softening. “What’s bothering you, Clara? You seem upset.”
She bit her lip, feeling the vulnerability of the moment pressing in on her. She had tried to keep it all inside, but standing there with Adrian, she couldn’t hold it back anymore. “I’m nervous, Adrian,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m worried I’m not… fit for all of this. All this luxury, this life you have. I’m worried I won’t be able to be a good wife. I don’t want to disappoint you.”
Adrian’s gaze softened, and for the first time in a while, the rigid formality he had been carrying seemed to slip away. He took a step closer to her, lifting her chin gently so she would meet his eyes. There was a tenderness there, a glimpse of the man she had fallen in love with.
“You won’t disappoint me,” he said, his voice low and reassuring. He took her hand, squeezing it lightly. “Clara, I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to try.”
Clara’s breath caught as she stared up at him, the vulnerability of the moment bringing tears to her eyes. Adrian smiled softly, repeating her own words back to her, “You don’t need to be perfect… but you will be, I know it.”
Her heart swelled at his reassurance, and for a brief moment, the vast, cold mansion around them faded, leaving just the two of them standing together, wrapped in the warmth of his words.
Adrian had left for business, leaving Clara alone in the vast mansion, the weight of her new life heavy on her shoulders. Needing an escape, she decided to forget about the cold walls and head to the beach. The sun was bright, the water sparkling like a blanket of diamonds as she stepped into the cool ocean. She swam out, allowing the waves to carry her worries away, the salty water refreshing against her skin. For a moment, she felt free—unburdened by everything that had happened.
After what felt like hours, she returned to the house, feeling both refreshed and hungry. Wrapping a towel around herself, she made her way to the kitchen and found the private chef busy with preparations. Clara approached hesitantly, still not quite used to having someone at her beck and call.
"Could you prepare something for me?" she asked, her voice unsure.
The chef looked up and smiled warmly. "Of course, Mrs. Belfort. What would you like?"
Clara paused, still getting used to the sound of her new name. "Surprise me," she said, smiling back, hoping to shake off her remaining nerves.
As the chef got to work, Clara picked up her phone and noticed a message from Jessica. Curious, she decided to call her, eager to hear a familiar voice.
“Hey,” Clara greeted, a little out of breath from her swim.
“Clara, oh my God! What the hell is going on with you?” Jessica sounded breathless on the other end.
Clara sighed, finally feeling like she could unload everything. “It’s a long story, Jess. My father… he lied to me. He never told Adrian about the baby, and when Adrian found out, he dissolved the engagement with the Caldwells.” She hesitated. “And… well, now we’re married.”
There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment, then Jessica's voice returned, a mix of disbelief and something else. “I know.”
Clara blinked. “What? How?”
“That’s why I called you. Check the link I sent you.”
Clara frowned and pulled the phone away from her ear to check the text Jessica had sent earlier. Her heart stopped when she saw the link to a tabloid website. She clicked it, her breath catching in her throat as the headline loaded:
"**Jewelry Business Billionaire Marries His Own Teenage Niece in a Secret Ceremony in Italy."**