Chapter 14 Clara
THIRD PERSON’S POV.
The night air outside the bar was warm and thick. Jonathan stepped out letting the breeze hit his face. He flexed his shoulders, exhaled sharply, then pulled out his phone.
Clara picked up on the first ring.
“Hey, babe,” she purred., lazy, confident, like she was still in bed.
Jonathan didn’t bother matching the tone. “There’s something wrong with your sister.”
A rustle on the other end, sheets shifting, maybe, or her sitting upright. When she spoke again, the sultriness was gone. “What do you mean?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I went to the bar like you said. To pick her up, play the concerned boyfriend…” His eyes darted toward the entrance, irritated that the valet was taking forever to bring his car. “But she wasn’t herself. She looked at me like…”
“Like what?”
“Like she could see through me,” he muttered. “Like she finally figured something out.”
Clara’s breath caught; he could hear it. “That doesn’t make any sense. Serena thrives on being rescued. That girl would limp into traffic for attention.”
“Well, tonight she didn’t. She was stiff. Cold. She wouldn’t even let me touch her.” He rubbed his thumb over his jaw, annoyed. “I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s off.”
“Maybe you said something wrong,” Clara snapped, though her voice trembled. “Maybe you made her uncomfortable.”
Jonathan scoffed. “Don’t start. I was perfect. I was charming. I was the damn blueprint.” Finally, the valet pulled up with his car. Jonathan tossed the man a nod and slid behind the wheel. “Maybe she was trying to impress the guy she was with.”
Silence, then Clara’s voice, dangerously sharp. “Hold on. She was with a guy?”
“Yeah.” Jonathan started the engine. “Damian Crowne.”
Clara inhaled sharply, fear laced in her tone,“Jonathan… listen to me. Carefully.”
He stopped with his hand on the gearshift.
“Whatever you do,” she continued, voice low, tight, almost shaking, “you cannot let Serena and Damian talk. Not alone. Not even for a second.”
“And why is that?” he asked, but he already knew he wouldn’t like the answer.
“Because,” she hissed, “if Serena starts thinking for herself and Damian Crowne is the one she thinks with, our entire plan falls apart.”
Jonathan’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. The warm night suddenly felt suffocating.
“What do you want me to do?” Jonathan asked, voice tight.
“Go back in there and make sure she follows you home,” Clara said, slowly, like she was speaking to a child.
Jonathan turned to stare at the bar entrance again. His jaw clenched. He could see Damian’s guards stationed by the doors, see the dim lights flickering inside, see the humiliation waiting for him if he stepped back in.
He hesitated.
“I can’t go back in there,” he muttered. “It’ll look suspicious.”
“Jonathan,” Clara snapped, “I don’t care how it looks. Go inside and get Serena to go home with you. And make sure she sleeps with you tonight. Do you hear me?” Her voice rose, sharp and wild at the edges.
He flinched at the outburst. “I’m telling you, I can’t. That guy has bodyguards, Clara. And from the way he looked at me tonight? He won’t hesitate to set them on me if I try pulling Serena out by force.”
Clara went silent, the dangerous kind of silence. Then a long exhale.
“Fine,” she said quietly.
“Relax. One night won’t ruin everything.”
Jonathan finally eased his car out of the parking lot, relief sliding down his spine. He had no intention of walking back in there to be embarrassed again, not after Serena brushed him off and Damian stared him down like he was nothing. He hissed, clearly annoyed.Who even brings bodyguards to a neighborhood bar?
“I’ll call her first thing in the morning,” he said, confidence returning now that he was away from the bar. “I’ll take her on a romantic picnic. Something sweet. Something emotional.”
He smirked to himself. “Her heart will soften, and she’ll give herself to me willingly. No pressure. No awkward scenes.”
“Good,” Clara murmured. But her voice didn’t sound convinced, only frightened.
Jonathan didn’t notice. He was already imagining it, Serena in his arms, smiling up at him, trusting him again.
By the time he drove out of the parking lot, his irritation faded into confidence.
Tomorrow would fix everything, Serena loved grand gestures. A picnic. Sweet words. A tender moment. She’d soften, melt a little, let him close again.
She would trust him again and then the inheritance would lock in, just like he and Clara planned.
Jonathan smirked to himself as the road opened ahead.
Clara stayed on the line long after Jonathan hung up, staring into nothingness.
Damian Crowne.
She hadn’t heard that name aloud in years, at least not anywhere near their family. Her stomach tightened.
She remembered being a teenager, watching her grandfather entrust Serena’s safety to Damian with a seriousness Clara never understood. Back then, Damian was already powerful, already someone people listened to. Someone who could uncover secrets with just a phone call.
And then came the proposal Serena rejected.
Clara never forgot how Damian always looked at their family, like he saw something none of them were brave enough to admit.
If Serena got close to him again…
If they talked, even briefly…Damian would sense something was wrong. He always did.
Their plan, the marriage trap, Jonathan’s manipulation, the inheritance they were trying to secure everything would crumble before it even began.
Clara pressed a hand to her forehead, swallowing hard.
Serena cannot be near him. Not now. Not ever.
Because if Damian Crowne started digging into their lives again….
He’d find everything.
Inside the bar, Serena lifted her glass, but her eyes stayed on the door where Jonathan had disappeared. Her pulse was steady.
Damian watched her, leaning back in the dim light.
“You let him leave,” he said quietly.
“I didn’t let him do anything,” Serena replied, taking a sip. “He made a choice.”
Damian’s gaze lingered on her face, studying it.
“You’re different tonight.”
“Am I?” she asked with a smirk.
“Mm,” he hummed. “The old you would’ve run after him. Begged him not to be upset. Tried to fix whatever wasn’t broken.”
Serena turned toward him, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “Maybe the old me is gone.”
Silence passed.
“Good,” Damian said softly. “She never did you any favors.”
Serena looked back toward the door, exhaling. She should’ve felt afraid. Conflicted.
Instead, she felt… nothing but clarity.
“Jonathan will call you tomorrow,” Damian continued. “He’ll try something grand. Something manipulative.”
“I know,” she said. “But how do you know?”
Damian didn’t answer her question “What are you going to do?”
Serena swirled the drink in her glass, watching the liquid catch the light.
“Whatever I want.” She met his eyes and winked.
She wasn't just changing; she was exploring, getting a taste of what true power felt like. And the world had no idea what it had just awakened.