Chapter 74 PACK A BAG
THIRD PERSON POV.
Horace had spent the entirety of the previous day waiting for Sarah to show up at the office but she never did. He had left in a fit of rage and instructed the chauffeur to drive him back home at full speed, he needed the adrenaline rush to calm down.
Presently, the incessant knocking on his study door was giving him a small migraine, he was about to send the person away when the door flew open and Jonathan rushed in like he owned the place.
“How dare you barge in here like that ?” Horace screamed, “I’ve told you, that this place is off limits to the likes of you.” He spat.
Jonathan took a second to take a deep breath and find his voice. “I know Horace, but this is urgent.”
“This better be something important” Horace sighed, reclining back in his chair, urging Jonathan to speak.
“Clara is refusing to come to Marrakech with me,“ he said.
“So you barged into my study to report that your wife is refusing to go on honeymoon with you?” Horace seethed in one breath. “Why the hell would I care about such foolish things?”
“No…No,” Jonathan stuttered, sinking into the chair beside him. “I came to you with this because I thought it would be best for you if Clara were out of the house right now.”
Horace grinned in amusement, “And why exactly would I not want Clara in the house?”
“Because..” Jonathan lowered his voice, leaning forward in his seat, “I heard you over the phone last night, you are moving forward with a plan B involving Sarah.” He paused for dramatic effect before ending his sentence with, “I know your plan involved incapacitating her.”
A bead of sweat instantly formed on Horace’s forehead.
Jonathan’s lips twitched in a small smirk. When he had accidentally bumped into Horace making a secret call outside on the courtyard the previous night, he had decided to listen in but hadn’t understood most of the conversation being that he could only hear Horace’s part of the conversation, yet, he had memorized what little information he heard and now seeing Horace sweat knowing the little information he had gathered from that brief call could make was what was causing this reaction, brought him immense satisfaction.
“So,” Jonathan continued when Horace didn’t say anything. “We both agree Clara needs to be out of the house and out of the office, don’t we?”
Horace thought for a minute, he did need as much time alone with Sarah as he could get these next few days, and with most of the family gone, this was the perfect opportunity to strike.
“Where is Clara?” He asked, rising from his seat.
“She’s still in the bedroom.” Jonathan jumped to follow behind him, grateful that his plan had succeeded.
“Lead the way,” Horace replied, his voice as calm as always.
Jonathan knocked once before turning the knob and popping his head into the room, “Your dad is here,” he announced to Clara who immediately jumped off the bed, tucking her phone away under the pillow.
Immediately Horace entered the room, she stretched her hands above her head, yawning loudly, while she prayed the sound from the TikTok video she had been watching didn’t start playing loudly from the pillow where she had hidden it.
Clara would rather pretend to have been sleeping than admit she had been watching AI cat videos on TikTok all day. She didn’t want her father to think all she did all day was sit around scrolling through her phone and laptop.
“Why are you sleeping when you should be packing for your trip?” Horace asked, his voice already sounding cold so she instinctively stepped backwards before she responded.
“What trip? She asked, turning to Jonathan with an accusing look.“I already said I was not going on that trip.”
“Oh, yes you are,” Horace replied.
“Why do you care about our honeymoon?”
“I don’t,” Horace muttered, “but you have to do this, to show the world that you are enjoying marital bliss.”
“We don’t have to go to the same place as Serena to show that.”
“Look Clara, the flight ticket has been booked so get over your whining.” Horace didn’t bother making the irritation already building in his voice.
Jonathan stayed by the door, choosing to remain silent while Horace did the work for him.
Clara huffed, folding her hands under her chest. “Serena and her friends went to Morocco on her husband's private jet and we are going on what?” She asked, looking between the two men. “We are going on a commercial flight! Do you see how ridiculous that is?”
“No, I do not,” Jonathan said, peeling himself off the wall.
“The internet is going to mock us, all of us, they are going to call us the poor couple, well they already call us that, but now you are giving them a proper reason to.”
“So, what are you saying exactly?” Jonathan questioned.
“I’m saying if we must go to Morocco then we must do it the right way, in grand style. Just like Serena did.”
“Where am I supposed to go? get you a jet, Clara?”
“Well that would be a start,” she mocked.
“That’s enough you two….” Horace thundered. He turned to Clara, “I’ll find you a private jet to use, just pack your bag and make sure you have a cameraman on standby, this will be how we convince the world that your love story is better than your sister’s..”
With that, Horace turned to leave the room but on a second thought, he paused by the entrance and said.
“Oh and Jonathan?”
“Yes, Jonathan answered, a knot instantly forming in his throat.
“Next time, I don’t care if you are being chased by an army of angry Vikings,” he said, each word rolling off his tongue with venom, “if you barge into my study ever again, I swear to God I will chop off each of your fingers and feed them to you, just to make sure you never have to knock on a door again.”
Horace straightened his jacket and walked out of the room without another word.
Jonathan stayed rooted in the same spot even long after Horace had left the room.
“I can’t believe you actually went to report me to my father.” Clara snorted, breaking the silence.
“Just do as you are told, Clara,” Jonathan snapped, walking past her in quiet fury.
When Jonathan walked out the door, he hadn’t noticed the figure in the shadows, hidden quietly behind the thick silk curtains. Although he had paused there for a brief second in an attempt to calm his rising temper, he had immediately walked past without a second thought, ignoring the obvious bump sticking out.
The person behind the curtains slipped out right after Jonathan and blended in with the other people moving about in the house.
The door to Clara’s room remained open, but even she hadn’t taken note of the figure sneaking past because her back was turned to the door, facing her walk-in closet which, after accessing, she rang the bell behind the door to summon a maid to help her pack, deciding she couldn’t do all that work herself.