Chapter 84 Chapter 84
A few more seconds of stammering explanations. Claire didn't want to hear any more. She hung up the phone and, in a fit of rage, threw it against the opposite wall.
The device shattered on the floor.
Kenia jumped up in bed. “What happened? What did she say?”
Claire remained silent for a moment, her chest heaving. Her fists were clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palms.
“She refused,” Claire whispered, her voice trembling with contained rage. “Caroline rejected the offer.”
Kenia frowned, but Claire saw beyond that.
It was a humiliating, dangerous, and poorly paid role. “Old” Caroline, desperate for money for her grandmother's treatment, would have accepted it on her knees.
If she refused...
It meant she no longer needed their money.
It was because of him. That mysterious and powerful man from the Wolf Company.
Claire felt a chill in her stomach. Caroline wasn't just sleeping with a rich man; she had a supporter. Someone who gave her the luxury of saying “no.”
For the first time in years, Claire Ford felt something she hated: she felt threatened.
If that unknown man decided to support Caroline with the same devotion Edward had devoted to her... Claire shuddered at the thought. That little bitch wouldn't just have a chance; she would take over the world.
Deep down in her soul corrupted by envy, Claire Ford knew a truth she would never admit out loud: Caroline was superior to her. In everything.
Beauty, talent, charisma.
Claire remembered past auditions bitterly. Every time they competed fairly, the directors chose Caroline. Claire only got the leading roles, fame, and contracts because she whined to Edward, using the Collins family's influence to steal what was rightfully Caroline's.
Without that sabotage...
Caroline would be a superstar today, and Claire would be just a footnote.
The problem was that Caroline, in her naivety, had no idea of her own potential. But Claire knew.
If that woman had a real chance... she wouldn't just become popular. She would completely eclipse Claire.
“How could I have let this happen?” Claire muttered to herself, tasting the bitter flavor of fear.
No. She couldn't allow it. Before that bitch had a chance to shine, Claire needed to nip it in the bud. She needed to destroy her now, while Caroline still thought she was weak.
“Mom, get some rest,” Claire said, hiding her panic behind a mask of coldness. “I'm going out to take care of a few things. I'll be back later.”
She put on her designer sunglasses, covering her calculating eyes, grabbed her leather bag, and left the room without looking back.
(...)
Claire crossed the hallway and headed for the annex building of the hospital complex. She knew that Sara, Caroline's grandmother, was hospitalized there.
Her plan was simple: use the sick old woman to get to Caroline.
However, when she arrived at the community ward where she had last seen Sara—a cramped place that smelled of disease—she stopped abruptly.
The bed was occupied by a stranger.
Claire frowned, her irritation growing. She stopped a nurse who was hurrying by with a clipboard.
“Hey, you,” Claire called, with her usual tone of superiority. “Where is the patient who was in that bed? Mrs. Sara Ford.”
The nurse stopped, eyeing the well-dressed woman in front of her suspiciously. “Miss, may I ask how you are related to the patient?”
Claire swallowed her disgust at having to explain herself to a mere employee. “I'm her granddaughter's sister. I'm her granddaughter, too.”
The nurse raised an eyebrow, confused. “Mrs. Sara's granddaughter comes here every day. She never mentioned having another sister...”
“I'm the second granddaughter, okay?” Claire interrupted impatiently, adjusting her sunglasses. “She doesn't talk about me because we're fighting. Now, can you tell me if she's been discharged? I don't have all day.”
The nurse looked at Claire's designer clothes. Arrogance and luxury often went hand in hand. She decided not to cause any trouble.
Changing to a more polite tone, the nurse explained: “Oh, I apologize, Miss Ford. No, Mrs. Sara has not been discharged. But she was transferred to another ward this morning. She is no longer under my care.”
Claire blinked, taken aback. “Transferred? Where to? To the private room upstairs?”
The nurse shook her head, a gleam of reverence appearing in her eyes. “No, miss. Mrs. Sara has been transferred to the VIP Ward in the Special Zone.”
The floor seemed to disappear beneath Claire's feet. “Special Zone?” she repeated, her voice failing. “Are you sure?”
An expression of disbelief twisted Claire's perfect features.
The VIP Wing of the Special Zone wasn't just a hospital; it was a sanctuary. It was a restricted area, accessible only to the country's supreme elite.
It wasn't enough to have money. You had to have real power. Political influence. Untouchable status.
Claire vividly remembered when Edward's grandfather, the patriarch of the Collins family, fell seriously ill last year. Edward's father moved heaven and earth, offered absurd sums of money, but was rejected. The Special Zone was too exclusive for mere millionaires like them.
And now... Sara Ford? A poor old woman, without a penny to her name, was in there?
The realization hit Claire like a punch in the stomach.
It wasn't Caroline who paid for it. Caroline barely had enough money to eat.
It was him.
That mysterious man.
Jealousy exploded in Claire's chest, hotter and more poisonous than ever.
That man had achieved, with a snap of his fingers, what the powerful Collins family had never dreamed of achieving.
Who was he, anyway?
He wasn't just rich. He was dangerous. He was a king among ordinary men.
And Caroline... that reject... was sleeping in a king's bed.
Claire frantically searched her memory. She knew São Paulo's elite like the back of her hand. She had socialized with heirs, tycoons, and politicians. But that man...
That cold, domineering face was an enigma.
Unless... he was an outside force? Someone who never needed São Paulo to build his empire? The thought made her shudder.
“I'm going to visit my sister. Take me to her now,” Claire ordered, taking a deep breath to regain her composure.
However, the nurse hesitated. The woman's arrogance did not match the concern of a family member.
“Miss Ford...” the nurse began cautiously. “Perhaps you should call the patient first.”
She can give us the exact room number.
Claire's eyes flashed behind her dark glasses.
“What do you mean by that?” she hissed, taking a step forward. “Are you implying that I'm lying?”
“No, miss, it's just protocol...”
“I am Claire Ford!”