Chapter 45 Business associates
Chapter 45 Business associates
Clara's POV
The automatic doors of the supermarket slid open, spewing me back into the blistering afternoon heat. My purse felt lighter, mocking the ten calls I’d made to Ethan, each one met with the same infuriating decline. Each ring unanswered felt like a deliberate slap. The shopping cart clattered behind me, full of groceries I couldn’t pay for.
“Ma’am, are you going to purchase those items or not?” A stocky woman in a bright blue apron stood with her arms crossed. Her voice was sharp, cutting through the general store murmur.
I turned, my face hot. “I told you, there’s an issue with your terminal. My card is fine.”
“Your card was declined, dear,” another attendant, younger and smirking, chimed in. “Maybe you should check your rich husband’s bank account. Or maybe, the poor terminals are just tired of his wife trying to pass off an empty card.”
My jaw tightened. “My husband is Ethan D’Arden. You think he’s poor? You think my card is empty?”
The stocky woman snorted. “Rich folks always blame the machine. Just because he’s D’Arden doesn’t mean your money is endless. Go on, get out if you’re not paying.”
“I’ll sue you,” I hissed, my voice barely a whisper, but laced with enough venom to make them flinch. “For slander, for insulting a paying customer, for… for everything.”
They backed away, a satisfied, bitter feeling swelling in my chest. I pushed the cart away, abandoning it by the entrance. My hands trembled as I unlocked my car. It can’t be empty. Ethan sent me money weekly. Without thinking, I fumbled for my phone, pulling up my banking app.
The numbers flashed on the screen, stark and accusing: ‘Balance: $0.00’.
A cold dread seeped into my bones. Not a mistake. Not a faulty terminal. He’d done it. He’d taken everything. My breath hitched. That bastard. That absolute, utter bastard.
The drive home was a blur of rage. My hands clenched the steering wheel, knuckles white. He’d promised. He’d promised he’d make my life hell. He was certainly trying. But I wouldn’t let him. Not like this. Not ever.
I burst through the front door, the sound of male voices drifting from Ethan’s study. His office hours, I remembered faintly. Business partners. Good. Excellent.
He was there, lounging in his leather chair, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. Two other men sat opposite him, dark suits, polite smiles. They were talking investments, capital, dividends. I didn’t care.
“Ethan!” I shrieked, the sound tearing through the polite conversation. Every head whipped towards me. “What is wrong with you?”
Ethan’s eyes, usually so cold, widened just a fraction. He didn’t seem surprised, just annoyed. He set his glass down slowly, a controlled movement.
“Clara,” he said, his voice dangerously low, a warning bell only I could hear. “We have guests.”
“I can see that,” I retorted, my voice still too loud, too sharp.
“And I’m asking you, in front of your guests, what on earth possessed you to empty my account?”
The two men exchanged uncomfortable glances. One cleared his throat, picking at an imaginary lint on his sleeve.
Ethan pushed himself up from his chair. “Excuse us for a moment, gentlemen.” He marched towards me, his hand closing around my arm, his grip surprisingly strong. He tugged me out of the study, past the shocked butler, and into the echoing hallway, far from prying ears.
“Are you blind?” he hissed, his face a mask of fury.
“Did you not see I was in the middle of a meeting?”
“Blind?” I scoffed, ripping my arm from his grasp.
“Yes, Ethan, I am blind! Because you, my loving husband, took all the money out of my account!”
He scoffed back, a dry, humorless sound. “And what about it? That’s my money, Clara. The money I deposited.”
“It was my money!” I countered, my voice rising again.
“For my necessities! I needed to buy groceries! The shop assistants called me a thief!” My eyes burned, but I wouldn’t cry. Not in front of him.
“I needed the funds for an urgent business matter,” he said, his voice flat. “They are going to good use. You can get by without a few frivolous purchases.”
“Frivolous?” My laugh was brittle.
“Do you think food is frivolous? Or clothes, perhaps? My clothes are falling apart. I was going to buy new ones today.” I pressed my advantage, my voice dropping, laced with a new kind of threat.
“Unless you want me to go back in there and tell your ‘business partners’ exactly why their potential associate’s wife was called a proud thief at the local grocery store for trying to buy milk and bread?”
His eyes narrowed further. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, wouldn’t I?” I smirked, despite the tremor in my hands.
“You swore you’d make my life hell, Ethan. I’m thinking of returning the favor. Double my allowance. Now. Or I go in there, and I talk. About us. About everything. Imagine their faces when they learn their esteemed partner makes his wife beg for money.”
He stared at me, his chest rising and falling rapidly. For a second, I thought I had him. Then, a chilling smile touched his lips.
“My money is going into this venture, Clara. Not into your extravagant spending.”
“Fine,” I said, before he could say anything else. “No problem at all.”
He blinked, caught off guard by my sudden compliance. His hand shot out, trying to grab my arm again, sensing a trick. But I was faster. I twisted away, a triumphant grin flashing across my face, and sprinted back towards the study door.
“Clara, no!” His shout echoed behind me.
I burst back into the room, heart pounding. The two men looked up, startled, their conversation clearly interrupted by our little hallway drama. I composed myself instantly, a serene smile plastered on my face.
“Gentlemen,” I said, extending my hand to the closer of the two, a tall man with a neatly trimmed beard.
“Clara D’Arden. Ethan’s wife.” My voice was sweet, polite, nothing like the banshee from moments before.
The man, still looking confused, took my hand. “Ah, Mrs. D’Arden. Pleasure.”
The other man followed suit. “Likewise.”
“I heard you were here,” I continued, my smile unwavering.
“Working on a new partnership with my husband. That’s wonderful. What exactly is this venture about?”
My eyes flickered to Ethan, who stood frozen in the doorway, his face a mixture of disbelief and growing panic.
The bearded man cleared his throat nervously. “Well, we are currently discussing some investment opportunities in a… tech startup.”
“How fascinating,” I purred.
“And you’re completely sure you want to partner with my husband on this?” I let my gaze linger on Ethan for a moment, then back to them.
“Do you know who you’re really about to partner with?”
The two men exchanged another glance, more openly confused this time. “Mrs. D’Arden, I’m not sure I understand.” the other partner said, his brow furrowed.
I leaned in conspiratorially.
“Well, let’s just say that Ethan… isn’t always the most forthright in his dealings, if you catch my meaning. Sometimes, one might say, he can be rather… unpredictable with his assets. One might even wonder if he truly has funds available for a large-scale investment, when he can’t even ensure his wife’s basic needs are met.”
A horrified gasp escaped Ethan’s lips. He took a step forward, but I held up a hand, stopping him. The air in the room was electric with tension. The two investors were practically glued to my every word, their faces pale.
Just as I was about to deliver the killing blow, my phone buzzed in my hand. I pulled it out, pretending to check a message. A notification blared: ‘Ethan D’Arden has deposited $50,000.00 into your account.’
My smile widened, real this time, not a performance.
“Ah,” I said, sliding the phone back into my pocket.
“On second thought, gentlemen, please ignore my last comment.” I chuckled, a light, airy sound.
“My husband, Ethan—he is, in fact, a remarkably trustworthy man. His finances are impeccable. And your money, believe me, is in very safe hands.”
I stepped forward, shaking both their hands again. “He just likes to keep things… exciting. A little playful scare every now and then.” I winked.
“But all is well. Perfectly well.” I glanced at Ethan, who finally seemed to be breathing again.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I must retrieve my daughter from school. You three enjoy your meeting. I’ll make sure dinner is… adequately funded.”
With a final, triumphant smirk at Ethan, who looked like he wanted to murder me on the spot, I turned and practically floated out of the study, leaving the three bewildered men in my wake.