Chapter 5 CHA

Clara's POV

Nighttime. I lay down and soon fell asleep.

I dreamed.

It all flashed back to that day three years ago. Pregnant stomach and all, Imogen Clarke was victoriously grinning at me.

"Dear sister, I'm pregnant. The baby is Edward's!" Imogen said.

I only managed to get her once on the face, but Imogen miscarried. There was blood all over the ground. I was afraid and still enraged.

"Smack!" There was a clear noise of a slap, along with my mother-in-law, Eleanor's, vile cursing. "B*tch, won't you allow other people to give birth because you are a cheating slut?"

"This is a divorce agreement. Please read it and sign it!" Edward's lawyer said uncaring.

"Mr. Harrington doesn't have time for this. So don't lose any more time. Just sign it. It'll be good for all!"

This was the man I loved with all my heart for five years and the man for whom I was going to give up my whole life!

A bitter heartache seemed to be ripping my heart apart. My entire body was drenched in cold sweat. I trembled and opened my eyes.

It was three years, yet these terrible dreams hadn't stopped haunting me. I rubbed my head as I got up in a sitting position. I took the phone on the bedside table and checked the time; it was four in the morning.

I could not go back to sleep after the nightmare awakened me. I got up and showered since my body was perspiring. I changed, then went into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

Oliver Whitfield looked like a playboy, but he was not sloppy when he worked. There were a lot of things to be done in Bristol when he came. He had been efficient and determined in everything he did; he did not like procrastination. I, as his assistant, did not dare to slacken at all.

I took my bag and rushed downstairs after breakfast in haste. I lived in an old apartment. Since it was not well maintained, some of the streetlights were very dim. I tread cautiously through an alley to get to the bus stop. When I reached the other side, I saw the No. 28 bus approaching the stop. I immediately started running towards the bus without seeing the black luxury car that was parked beside the alley.

The window of the car rolled down a little, and I saw a stranger, a dark figure in the pre-dawn morning. I did not know the individual, only the car waiting while I scrambled to catch the bus.

I reached the company building in a rush. I was earlier than usual today and no one was there yet. I entered the office to tidy it a little and made a cup of tea for Oliver. Only then did I sit in my chair and turn on the computer.

Having arranged Oliver's daily routine, there were steps from the direction of the door. Oliver and his executive assistant, Simon Price, were here.

Seeing that I had arrived so early, Oliver was quite surprised. With a sarcastic smile, he teased, "Clara Whitmore, you arrived so early because you think that I'll give you more bonus? Dreaming. I'd rather spend money on a beautiful lady than on an ugly monster like you. It's a waste of money."

I knew since the first day I came here that Oliver was a lecher. Despite the fact that Rupert introduced him to me, I was still afraid of being harassed by this playboy. To prevent that, I had always dressed unfashionably and conservatively in front of him, without makeup. Knowing most women who wore glasses were disliked by Oliver, I also put on a pair of ugly black-framed glasses.

For this, despite being with Oliver for three months, Oliver had never taken me seriously. He had been speaking to me in a rude manner, disrespectfully.

Oliver had insulted my looks and intelligence many times. I had already gotten accustomed to it and could turn a blind eye to his humiliation. But Simon could not tolerate it anymore.

He swiftly tried to pour oil on troubled waters by saying, "Mr. Whitfield, I hear that Mr. Harrington is about to get engaged. What do we choose as the engagement gift?"

When I heard this, I was taken aback. I suddenly lifted my head and looked at Simon. I had not been keeping up with the news of Edward during the past three years. I did not expect that he had already wedded his mistress, Imogen, though.

Oliver sneered, "This Mr. Harrington is getting married to the Chief Secretary's precious daughter. If not out of respect for Edward Harrington, then it's out of respect for the Chief Secretary. Regardless, we'll have to offer a splendid gift!"

"Mr. Whitfield, then what do we give?"

"What to give? How would I know?" Oliver shifted his gaze towards me and said, "I'll leave this to you. Go and choose a gift."

"I... I don't know about this. Mr. Whitfield, you should ask someone else." I refused immediately. Naturally, I didn't wish to select a gift for that scumbag and his half-sister.

"Why can't you learn when you don't know how?" Oliver's hobby was tormenting me. I was already a 27-year-old woman in his eyes, and I still didn't know how to dress up, make up, and didn't even have a boyfriend. He hated me at first sight for no reason.

If it were not for Rupert's sake, he would not have wanted to have such a woman as his assistant. On my first working day, he had reminded me that he did not like women who wore glasses and even asked me to wear contact lenses whenever I came to work. But I dared to disobey him and went on to disgust him by wearing a pair of ugly black-framed glasses every day.

"Well, since you didn't follow my order, don't hold it against me then. I am unable to say no to Rupert, but can't I torture you?" Oliver thought.

My disappointed expression made him feel immensely triumphant. "I'm leaving this to you. I'm warning you, it has to please Edward Harrington, or I'll fire you!"

"Yes, sir." I let out a sigh and reluctantly agreed to it.

At lunchtime, Oliver had to go and see some customers at the club. As usual, he took me with him.

After the business talks, it was time for wine and women as usual. Oliver was a playboy, and he called for the best courtesans in the club. In the private room, the men began getting rowdy after a few glasses of wine. They each began getting naughty with the woman next to them.

Surely, I would not be an eyesore at this moment. I stood up immediately and said, "Mr. Whitfield, I'll wait for you outside!"

"Go ahead. Remember, don't go far. You know what will happen if I don't find you!" Oliver spoke in a threatening tone.

"I won't be long, I'll be waiting at the door." When I left with my head hung low, someone questioned Oliver, "Mr. Whitfield, why in the world did you choose such an ugly woman as your assistant? Aren't you ashamed to look at her?"

"It's awful. I can't get an erection when I see her!" Oliver was quite brutal.

When the men inside the private room laughed, all of them, I quickened my pace. I could not proceed any farther, so I just remained standing in the corridor outside the room, waiting for Oliver's instructions.

A group of people approached me. They were escorting a middle-aged man, who was in high spirits. When I saw the middle-aged man, I immediately lowered my head, my gaze on my feet.

Stephen Harlow was led away, but he had a feeling that something was amiss and spun around immediately.

His gaze fell on me, who had lowered my head. Even though he was wearing an old-fashioned suit, he could recognize me at a glance since I was his daughter. Stephen's eyes grew wide with surprise. He said something to his secretary, then approached me and asked, "Clara? When did you come back?"

I raised my head and looked at Stephen indifferently. "Is there anything, Mr. Harlow?"

Stephen gazed at his daughter lovingly. My freezing glance had no effect on him whatsoever. "Where were you? I searched for you so many times in these past three years. Why didn't you call daddy?"

"Daddy? My father died a long, long time ago!" I retorted in a cold voice.