Claire’s POV
Damn it!
Damn it!
Damn it!
What the hell did I just do?
Did I just call Evander my husband? And in front of everyone at that? Did I seriously just threaten the producer, of all people, to leave the project?
What the hell had gotten into !?
I pressed my palms to my forehead, my thoughts spiraling out of control. No one knew I was married—not here, not in this industry. I had kept it hidden all this ti. And thank God I hadn’t filled out the contract yet!
But wait... what if this backfired? What if they decided to throw out of the project now? Back in the U.S., so projects were almost snatched from when people found out I was divorced. And now, I had gone and blurted out sothing even worse—without thinking and without a proper plan.
This was my first project, and I ruined everything.
"Fuck! Sissy is going to kill for sure!" I muttered as I paced back and forth in panic. My hands tangled in my hair as I tried to think of a way out of this ss.
Should I apologize? Should I march back in there and grovel at their feet? Should I try to laugh it off like it was so kind of joke?
But what kind of joke was this? I had just told Damian Stor monts ago—Damian Stor—that there was nothing left between Evander and . And then, right in front of him, I go and announce to the whole damn room that I have a husband!
I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut as I wished I could rewind ti just a few minutes. Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut? Now everyone was probably whispering, judging, and speculating. Including Evander.
Oh God... Evander.
The way he looked at when I said it. That stunned expression. Did he think I was talking about him? Or worse, did he think I wasn’t?
My heart raced as I tried to piece together a plan. I couldn’t undo what I said, but I had to figure out how to salvage this situation. There was no way I was letting this ruin everything I had worked so hard for.
"Okay, Claire. Think. You have handled worse. You will get through this," I whispered to myself, pacing faster.
But deep down, I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince myself or just praying that everything wouldn’t fall apart.
I was still trying to co up with sothing—anything that might help —when a pair of hands gently wrapped around my neck, pulling into an unexpected embrace.
I didn’t panic. The touch was far too familiar. My body froze, recognizing instantly who it was.
Evander.
I stood still as my breath hitched and his warmth surrounded . His scent, a mixture of woodsy cologne and sothing unique, filled the air.
"Should I kick out the producer?" he whispered, his deep voice brushing against my ear. "If that’s what you want, just say the word."
His words sent a shiver down my spine, but it wasn’t fear—it was sothing far more dangerous.
"Th... There is no need for that," I stamred, my voice shaky as I tried to turn away. But Evander’s hands held firmly in my place. His hold on wasn’t forceful but firm enough to let know I wasn’t going anywhere.
"You can’t leave , Love," he murmured, his voice lower and softer.
My heart slamd against my chest. Love? He just called Love!
I wanted to push him away, to snap at him for being so sweet, so tender—because it was terrifying. My defenses were crumbling too fast, and I wasn’t ready for that, at least not yet.
Why? Why are you doing this to , Evander? Why are you being so gentle when you know I can’t afford to fall for you again?
I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breathing. "Evander... I..." My voice trailed off, unable to form the words as his closeness overwheld .
My hatred for him had faded long ago, and in its absence, sothing else had begun to take root. Sothing I had buried so deeply beneath anger and pain that I hadn’t even realized it was still there.
Feelings.
The feelings that were old, familiar, and dangerously raw. The fog of hatred had lifted, and now everything I had tried to suppress was resurfacing once again. The warmth, the longing, the desperate hope that maybe—just maybe—this ti it could be different.
But I couldn’t let myself believe that. I still couldn’t believe Eliam was brother Elijah’s son and moreover, I needed to be strong to face Gloria.
"Evander..." I whispered again, this ti almost pleading. "Please... don’t."
His grip loosened slightly, but his hands didn’t leave . "Don’t what, Claire?" he asked, his voice low and steady. "Don’t care about you? Don’t fight for you? Don’t remind you of what we once had?"
Tears stung my eyes as I tried to look away anywhere rather than being around him. My heart raced wildly, torn between fear and the undeniable pull he had over .
"If you are going to hurt again," I said softly, my voice trembling, "then let go now. Don’t make fall for you just to break all over again."
Evander turned to face him, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. "I will never hurt you again, Claire," he said firmly. "You are mine, and I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you if I have to."
His words hit like a storm, threatening to tear down every wall I had built around my heart.
And that was the most terrifying part.
Because, deep down, I wanted to believe him.
"The... Then... You have to wait for !" I said in a low tone. "And..." I opened my mouth to say sothing when we heard footsteps coming toward us.
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