Chapter 7

CLARA POV

The world went silent. All I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears, a roaring tide of rage and betrayal. The phone in front of my face showed an image so vile, so completely shattering, that my body reacted before my mind could catch up.

My hand moved on its own, a blur of motion. The crack of my palm across Savannah's cheek was sharp and loud in the sudden quiet of the hallway.

She stumbled back, her hand flying to her face, her eyes wide with shock and a flicker of triumph.

And just at that moment, as if on cue, Sterling and the others rounded the corner. They saw Savannah, tears welling in her eyes, a red mark blooming on her cheek. They saw me, my hand still tingling, my chest heaving with fury.

"Clara! What the hell?" Wade shouted, rushing to Savannah's side. "What did you do?"

"She's just jealous," Savannah sobbed, burying her face in Wade's chest. "She can't stand that you all care about me."

The perfect victim. The perfect lie.

Sterling's eyes were cold as ice. He looked at me with a profound disappointment that felt like a physical blow, even though I no longer loved him. He didn't ask what happened. He didn't need to. In his eyes, I was already guilty.

**I said nothing. What was the point?** I simply turned and walked into the ballroom, leaving them to comfort the snake I had let into my home. My heart wasn't broken anymore. It was a cold, hard stone. I knew, with chilling certainty, that this was not over. Savannah would not let a slap be the end of it. She would want her revenge, and a party full of Texas's most influential people was the perfect stage for it.

The party was a blur of fake smiles and polite conversation. My father beamed beside me, oblivious to the storm that had just broken. He was so proud. This night was everything he had planned for me.

"Everyone!" my father's voice boomed from the stage, drawing all eyes. "Thank you for coming to celebrate my daughter Clara's twenty-first birthday!"

A warm round of applause filled the room.

"As Clara steps into adulthood, it's time to think about the future of the Beaumont Ranch," he continued. People began to whisper, glancing between me and Sterling, who stood with the other brothers, his face unreadable. They all expected an engagement announcement.

Even Preston, standing a few feet away, looked at me with a question in his eyes. I gave him the smallest, almost imperceptible shake of my head. He nodded, understanding.

"To celebrate my daughter," my father said, gesturing to the massive projector screen behind him, "we've put together a little trip down memory lane!"

The lights dimmed. The screen flickered to life. But it wasn't my baby pictures that appeared.

It was my face. Tear-streaked, puffy, heartbroken. A video, secretly recorded. It was me, in my bedroom, clutching a picture of Sterling.

My own voice, thick with sobs, filled the ballroom. *"Why doesn't he love me? I love him so much. I would do anything for him... I just want him to look at me the way he looks at her..."*

A wave of horrified gasps and cruel whispers swept through the crowd. My deepest, most private moment of pain was being broadcast for the entire world to see. It was the ultimate humiliation.

My eyes shot across the room to Savannah. She was staring at her hands, the picture of innocence, but a tiny, vicious smile played on her lips.

Sterling looked horrified, his technical mind probably racing to figure out how to stop it. But it was too late. The damage was done.

My father was frozen, his face a mask of disbelief and rage.

Wade, his face pale, suddenly roared and threw a champagne bottle at the projector, shattering it. The screen went black.

"Security!" my father bellowed, his voice shaking with fury. "Lock this place down! No one leaves!"

The room erupted into chaos. Amidst the noise, I felt a hand on my arm. It was Preston. His face wasn't full of pity, but of cold, protective anger. His eyes met mine, a silent question passing between us. *Are you okay? What do you want to do?*

This was it. This was my breaking point.

Preston stepped onto the stage, taking the microphone from my stunned father. His voice cut through the chaos, clear and commanding.

"There will be an investigation into this despicable act," he announced, his arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me to his side. "But it will not ruin this night."

He turned to me, his eyes full of a fierce loyalty that I had taken for granted my whole life. Then he looked back at the crowd.

"Because tonight is not just about a birthday. It's about a new beginning. For Clara, and for me." He raised my left hand, his voice ringing with absolute conviction. "I'm honored to announce that Clara Beaumont has agreed to be my wife."

The entire room fell silent. I could feel the collective shock.

And across the room, I saw Sterling's face. The cold mask had shattered, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated disbelief.