The Wife he threw Away (Claire and Lucian) novel Chapter 90

CHAPTER NINETY_CLAIRE’S POV

The room was louder than it looked.

Every conversation carried weight. Every glance meant something. Deals were being tested in half- finished sentences. Alliances were being measured in glances.

It was a room full of power- a room full of all the important people.

I moved through it all slowly, a glass of champagne in my hand untouched. My attention shifting from one clustered group to another.

“Observe,” Margot had said.

Dhark Holdings was at the center of it all.

Not openly, but noticeably.

They were one of the biggest corporations in the country after all.

The first thing I noticed was how certain names came up too often. How certain topics were avoided too quickly.

And every time the conversation edged too close to internal operations- it was cleanly redirected. I

knew it was deliberate.

I shifted my weight, listening without appearing to, catching fragments, filing them away, engaging in small conversations when I needed to.

Then something pulled at my attention.

Not sound. Not movement- an awareness. 1

That pull I always felt whenever he was near.

I looked up just in time to catch his deep green eyes from across the room.

He was already looking at me.

His state was too intense to be casual or to be an accident.

I held his gaze for a second, then turned away first.

Back to the conversation in front of me.

I wish it stopped there- it didn’t.

Every time I moved- Every time I shifted from one conversation to another-

I felt it.

That same pull.

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And every time I allowed myself to glance up; he was already there-watching me.

Not approaching, not interrupting. Just there.

Eva stood tall beside him. Elegant and shiny, like a star in the sky.

Her hand rested lightly on his arm, and her posture was angled just enough to signal possession without looking desperate.

She was speaking to investors, directors- the ones who controlled the corporate world.

Her smile was graceful, her gestures were perfect. She was playing her role.

For a moment, I could see how well it suited her. I don’t remember being that graceful and seamless at these things with Lucian.

I wasn’t a part of their world, and there were many times that I didn’t know what to say or didn’t understand what was being said.

I shook the memory away the moment my eyes locked onto Lucian’s again.

He might have been standing with Eva, but he wasn’t fully there.

His attention kept drifting. And it kept finding me.

“Ms. Claire, isn’t it?”

I turned slightly, meeting the gaze of a man holding a recorder. 1

A reporter.

“Yes.” I answered.

“I was hoping to get your thoughts on the Langford-Dhark situation.”

Of course.

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I smiled faintly. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to comment on an ongoing matter.” I replied, almost

automatically.

“Fair,” he answered easily. “But professionally-do you think this is internal error or something more…

deliberate?”

Sharp. I liked that.

But I didn’t let it show.

“I think,” I said calmly, “that it’s too early for conclusions.”

A brief pause.

“Situations like this tend to be more complex than they appear at first.”

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His brows lifted slightly, exactly as I expected.

Before he could respond-

The air shifted.

I didn’t need to look- I felt it.

Lucian stepped into the space beside us.

“Interesting assessment.” He remarked.

His voice was calm and familiar. Too familiar.

The reporter’s eyes moved between us-quick, observant.

“You two know each other?” he asked lightly.

A beat passed.

He must have been out of his job for sometime, to not recognize us. The divorce has headlined tabloids

across the country.

Lucian didn’t answer. Neither did I.

“We’ve crossed paths,” I said instead, neutral and controlled.

The reporter smiled slightly, clearly not convinced.

“I didn’t realize you were still in contact.”

At this point, it was obvious to me that he was looking for a reaction- something to write about.

Lucian’s gaze didn’t leave mine. He didn’t even seem to notice what the reporter was doing.

“We’re not,” I said.

At the same time-

“We are,” Lucian said quietly.

The words clashed, then hung in the air between us.

The reporter blinked, then a slow, intrigued grin took over his face.

“Right,” he murmured, clearly filing that away.

Before either of us could say anything else, a soft laugh cut in.

“Lucian, there you are.”

Eva.

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She slipped in beside him effortlessly, her hand finding his arm like it has always belonged there.

Her smile toward me was polite, and fake besides.

“Claire,” she said lightly.

I held her gaze, just as lightly. “Eva.”

Her fingers tightened slightly against Lucian’s sleeve, possessive.

“I’ve been looking for you,” she said to him, turning to stare into his eyes like she was looking into the

stars.

Of course she had been waiting.

I didn’t wait. I refused to linger.

Turning back to the reporter with a small nod, I said. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Then I walked away.

The speech had started. It was something about partnerships, growth and strategic alignment.

No one was really listening, but everyone was standing still enough to pretend they were.

I stood near the edge of the room. Half of my attention was on the speaker, and the other half was on everything else.

Observing. Tracking. Thinking.

“Enjoying yourself?”

I didn’t turn immediately, but I easily recognized her voice.

Eva stepped into my space, her presence soft, but intentional.

“More than expected,” I replied calmly.

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. 1

“I think it’s important to be clear about certain things,” she said, her voice low and falsely pleasant.

I finally looked at her. Perfect red lipstick and a stylish hairdo. All that beauty wasted on such a terrible

human.

“Clarity is useful.” I agreed, sounding equally pleasant.

Her gaze sharpened then. “Lucian is mine.”

There it was: her claim. Direct and simple.

I held her gaze for a second, then replied calmly. “If that were true, you wouldn’t need to say it.”

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The smile on her lips didn’t disappear at once, but it sharpened.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then another woman approached us, all polite enthusiasm and social courtesy.

“Eva! I’ve been meaning to speak with you-”

Perfect timing!

Eva turned slightly, shifting her attention.

And in that moment- her hand moved.

The glass tipped.

Liquid spilled-

Cold and sudden, across the front of my dress.

Everyone around us inhaled collectively- I hadn’t even known they were paying attention.

“Oh my God,” the woman beside her said immediately. “I’m so sorry-”

Eva’s expression was the perfect image of concern. She seemed so apologetic. So convincing.

“I didn’t see-Claire, I’m so sorry.”

I looked down at the red stain, then back up at her.

The humiliation was burning through my skin and in that moment, I could have slapped her. And perhaps

I should have.

But I had to remind myself that I’m better than that. Creating a scene was not in my agenda.

So I did nothing. I gave no reaction, showed no emotion.

Just stillness.

“It’s fine,” I finally said.

Not because it didn’t matter.

Not because she hadn’t ruined my dress.

But because I wouldn’t give her what she wanted.

I set my glass down, turned, and walked out.

Thankfully, the hallway was quieter. Empty.

The further into it I went, the more the noise from the event dulled.

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I moved quickly-not running, not frantic-but faster than I had all night.

The restroom was empty.

I stepped inside, placing my hands against the counter as I looked at the damage.

The stain was dark and obvious. Worse, it had spread.

I reached for a paper towel, wet it, then pressed it gently against the fabric.

Of course that was useless. The stain wouldn’t clear.

I exhaled slowly, my shoulders rising and falling once, after being stiff all night.

Then the door opened and Lucian stepped inside.

I didn’t need to turn, I saw his reflection in the mirror.

Silence settled between us, more tense than before.

For a moment, he didn’t speak. And neither did I.

He just stood there, looking at me.

I straightened slightly, meeting his gaze through the mirror.

There was something different in it- something I hadn’t seen before.

“Did she do that on purpose?” he asked.

His voice was low, but surprisingly, not detached.

I turned slowly to face him. “Does it matter?”

It almost felt like we were holding our breaths. But neither of us looked away.

The space between us felt smaller than it actually was.

Charged with tension, history, chemistry and everything in between.

The way he was looking at me now wasn’t calculated.

It wasn’t controlled.

It wasn’t what I had lived with for five years.

It was something entirely different. Something unguarded.

Something that didn’t feel distant anymore.

And for the first time since our marriage ended, the way he looked at me felt less like restraint…

and more like something he could no longer hold back.

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