Chapter 4 Pregnancy !

CLARA'S POV.

I woke up feeling strange, like something had changed, something I couldn't fully explain.

My head was a little dizzy, and a faint nausea began to creep into my stomach. At first, I thought it was just fatigue. The past weeks had been quite hectic with my growing boutique schedule. But this nausea was different, deeper, more real.

I tried to ignore it, continuing my morning as usual. I sat at the dining table with a cup of green tea that was usually my savior. But today, the smell of the tea made me almost vomit.

"Oh my god," I muttered, holding back the sudden onset of nausea.

I left my tea, trying to distract myself by scrolling through the emails on my tablet. But my mind was constantly distracted by that strange feeling. Plus, the past few days, I'd been feeling more tired than usual, even though I'd gotten enough sleep.

And then, there was the thing that made it all start to make sense: my cycle.

I frowned, trying to remember the last time I saw signs of my monthly cycle. It felt... like it was a few days late. Or more? I started to panic.

Could it be? It can't be. Not me. Not right now.

But the more I thought about it, the harder it was to ignore the possibility. Lucas and I did... have a relationship that wasn't entirely just on paper. This contract marriage had somehow turned into something more complex, and those nights where I let myself forget the boundaries between us might have led me to this situation.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I needed answers. And the only way to get them was to make sure myself.

A few hours later, I stood in the bathroom with trembling hands, holding something small but scary-test pack. I don't even know how I managed to buy this thing without looking suspicious. I went to a pharmacy far from home and made sure no one recognized me.

"It's just to be sure," I whispered to myself.

I followed the instructions carefully, though my hands were shaking throughout the process. As I placed the test pack over the sink and waited for the results, it felt like the world stopped. Five minutes felt like five hours.

I walked back and forth in the small bathroom, my mind filled with possibilities. What if the result was positive? What would happen? What would I tell Lucas? What about my boutique, about my life that was just beginning to stabilize?

Finally, I got up the courage to look at the results. I leaned closer, staring at the tiny lines slowly appearing on the test pack.

Two lines.

Two lines that were clear and firm, as if laughing at my doubts.

I froze, not knowing what to feel. Panicked, of course. My heart was racing, like it was about to jump out of my chest. I tried to reread the instructions on the test pack box, hoping I'd misunderstood the results. But no. Two lines meant positive.

I was pregnant.

My body felt weak. I sat on the bathroom floor, the test pack still in my hand. Mixed feelings filled my mind-fear, confusion, and even, though I found it hard to admit, a hint of happiness slowly emerged.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to accept this reality. I was pregnant. I was going to be a mother. But what would I tell Lucas? What would he think? Our marriage was a contract, not a marriage of love.

"God..." I whispered, almost silently. "What should I do?"

I knew I couldn't keep this up forever. Lucas needed to know. But how? How can I tell him without destroying what we've built?

I clutch the test pack tightly, trying to gather strength. The answers might not be there yet, but one thing is for sure-my life is about to change. And I didn't know if I was ready for any of this.

***

"Devereux Boutique: The Newcomer Changing the Face of Luxury Fashion."

My hand trembled slightly as I tapped on the article. A photo of my boutique was displayed at the top, with a large glass display case and the name of the boutique written in elegant letters. I looked at the name and still felt as if I was dreaming. Devereux Boutique. My name. Our name.

The article was full of praise. From the boutique's interior design that was deemed "rich in warmth and elegance" to my debut clothing collection that was said to be "able to combine modernity with a subtle touch of classics." The author of the article even mentioned how the boutique has become a go-to destination for fashion lovers, including celebrities and socialites on the hunt for exclusive collections.

I scrolled again, finding another article.

"Clara Devereux's Boutique, Proof That Fashion Isn't Just for Old Boys."

"The Successful Backers Behind Devereux Boutique: Lucas Devereux's Game Changer Investment."

This one article made me pause. I stared at the sentence, feeling a mix of emotions that I couldn't explain. There was pride, of course, that this endeavor was really starting to pay off. But there was also a sense of awkwardness that I couldn't ignore.

Lucas.

His name appeared in almost every article I read. He was mentioned as the visionary investor who saw the potential behind this boutique, as the main backer who made it all possible. And even though that was true, I couldn't help but feel that I wanted people to see me too. That it's not just about Lucas' support, but also my hard work, the idea, and all the dreams I put into it.

But for now, I let myself savor all this good news. I scrolled back, reading the comments from various people praising the concept of my boutique.

"The design of the boutique is amazing. Very different from any other boutique I've been to."

"The debut collection is absolutely stunning. I bought one of the dresses and feel like a queen every time I wear it."

"You can see that Clara Devereux is more than just a wife of a rich man. She has incredible talent and vision."

That last comment made my smile even wider.

"Enjoying your victory?"

I looked up to find Lucas standing in the doorway. He was dressed in his casual suit-a white shirt folded up to his elbows and gray pants. His hair was a little messy, but that only added to his charm.

"I don't know if it's called winning," I replied, trying to sound casual, though I was sure he could see the sparkle of enthusiasm in my eyes. "But yes, I'm happy."

He stepped inside, sitting next to me. "I just spoke to the marketing team. They said the first week's sales exceeded the target. Some items are even sold out."

"Seriously?" I almost jumped off the couch.

Lucas nodded, his smile thin but radiating satisfaction. "I'm telling you, this boutique will be a success. You just need to believe in yourself."

I stared at him, feeling a little choked by my own emotions. He was a man full of secrets, often elusive, but in moments like this, I saw a different side of him. A side that made me feel supported, seen, and-somehow-appreciated.

"Thank you, Lucas," I said softly, but sincerely.

He looked at me, his eyes soft though his tone remained calm as always. "You don't need to thank me, Clara. It's all because of your hard work. I'm just giving you a little push."

I knew he was being condescending about his role, but I decided not to argue. Instead, I picked up my tablet, showing one of the articles that mentioned her name.

"Looks like people are recognizing your role, too," I said, trying to tease.

He smiled slightly, then took the tablet from me and placed it on the table. "Let them say what they want. What matters is that you know who you are and what you've accomplished."

I fell silent, feeling something warm creep into my chest. His words were simple, but they touched something deeper.

I looked back at my boutique portrait. For several years of my life, I never thought I would be able to have this. I felt like I had found myself again-after only Cassandra had gotten Patricia and Willson's affection.

I was only ordered to get married without the opportunity to continue my college education. That's why I didn't believe in my design skills.

But Lucas gave me this.

He gave me the big thing-the accomplishment I've been yearning for.

Now, I remembered the positive result on the testpack. How could I tell Lucas? What if Lucas was disappointed to find out I was pregnant - when we'd never had sex?

I was worried he'd be disappointed.

"But amongst all the good comments, there was someone who made a bad comment about your boutique," Lucas said.

I look up, somewhat surprised at his words.

Then Lucas handed me a large brown envelope. I accepted, then opened the envelope. It was a collection of screenshot printouts from various social media and online forums. I frowned, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.

There, among the comments about my boutique, was one name that immediately caught my attention.

Ethan.

The name felt like a thorn stuck deep in my heart. My ex-husband. The man I once trusted with my entire life, only to be betrayed when I was most vulnerable.

I read one of his comments with a hardened jaw.

"This boutique is nothing more than a failed project financed by a rich husband. No originality, just glamor without content."

My heart skipped a beat.

"Clothing designs? Just copies of old trends. It's obvious that the owner has no talent or vision, relying only on money to buy attention."

My hands shook as I read through the comments. I could feel my blood boiling. Ethan wasn't just criticizing my business, but also trying to ruin my reputation. He knew how valuable this boutique was to me, and he was deliberately trying to bring it down.

"I saw it," he said matter-of-factly, his voice low but full of authority.

I stared at him, trying to read the expression on his face.

"So you knew this from the start?"

Lucas nodded. "Of course I did. My PR team reported this this morning. I wanted to make sure you knew what was going on."

I nodded slowly, looking down at the prints again.

"He tried to destroy me."

Lucas walked over, taking one of the chairs in front of me.

"Ethan only did this because he knew he couldn't touch you directly. He's attacking the thing that means the most to you."

"What am I supposed to do?" I asked, my voice almost breaking.

I didn't want to appear weak in front of Lucas, but it was hard to contain these mixed feelings.

Lucas looked at me with a gentle yet firm gaze.

"You didn't do anything, Clara. I'll take care of this."

I stared at him, surprised. "Lucas, this is none of your business. This is my boutique, my problem."

"And I'm your investor," he said, cutting in. "It's also my business. Besides, Ethan isn't just attacking your business. He's attacking the Devereux family name."

I know Lucas is serious. He always is when it comes to his reputation, and this time he considers this an extension of our reputation as a couple.

But I didn't want to rely on him. I wanted to face this myself, show that I was strong enough to fight back.

"Lucas, I appreciate your intentions," I said slowly, trying to choose my words carefully.

"But I can't keep hiding behind your protection. If I want this boutique to succeed, I have to show that I can deal with a problem like this on my own."

She looked at me for a long time, her eyes like she was assessing whether I was really serious. Finally, she nodded.

"Okay," she said. "Then, I'll give you some space. But I'll still make sure the PR and legal teams are ready if you need them."

I nodded, feeling a little relieved. "Thank you."

He stood up, but before leaving, he stopped in front of my desk, looking at me with an intensity that made it hard to look away.

"Clara, don't let him beat you," he said in a softer tone.

"You've come too far to back down now. This is your time to show who you really are."

His words echoed in my mind even after he left. I knew she was right. Ethan might try to destroy me, but I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. I would fight back, and this time, I would do it on my own terms.