Going Abroad

Breathing heavily through the sudden, terrifying pain in her abdomen, Clara watched Sebastian and Selena stand together in the corridor, practically joined at the hip. His arm remained locked in a protective half-embrace around Selena’s waist. The sight made Clara’s heart clench so painfully she could barely draw breath into her lungs. The physical agony radiating from her spine was instantly eclipsed by a suffocating, blinding wave of betrayal. He hadn’t even flinched when she crashed into the elevator doors; his only instinct had been to shield the woman who was actively destroying their marriage.

Refusing to show him any more vulnerability, refusing to let him witness the absolute devastation wrecking her from the inside out, Clara forced her trembling legs to move. She turned her back on them, her jaw locked tight, and began limping heavily away. Every step sent a fresh, sharp jolt of pain tearing through her lower half, but she clamped her teeth down hard on her lip, tasting copper, just to keep from crying out.

The descent in the elevator was agonizingly slow. By the time she finally reached the quiet isolation of her car in the dimly lit underground parking garage, her entire body was slick with a cold, clammy sweat. She collapsed into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut to seal herself off from the world. She leaned her head against the steering wheel, panting for air, waiting for the deep, pulling cramp to subside.

It didn't.

A fresh, horrifying wave of panic hit her as a sudden, unmistakable dampness seeped through her clothes. Clara's breath hitched. Trembling violently, she slowly moved her hand to her lower abdomen, dread pooling in her veins. She glanced down.

Her breath stopped entirely. Her pristine white pants were stained with bright, unmistakable red blood.

Panic-stricken and terrified for the fragile life growing inside her, her vision blurred with unshed tears. Fumbling wildly, she grabbed her phone from her purse. Her fingers were shaking so badly she dropped the device once before finally managing to dial Sebastian's number. He was her husband. He was the father. He was just upstairs. The phone rang, the sound echoing endlessly in the silent, suffocating confines of the car.

Finally, the line connected.

But instead of offering even a fraction of comfort, instead of asking if she was hurt from the brutal fall, his icy, impatient voice pierced through the static of the line.

"Acting all tough a moment ago, huh?" Sebastian's tone was laced with heavy, unbridled irritation. "Now what drama are you trying to play? I'm busy. Deal with your own mess."

He spat the words out with zero remorse. Before Clara could even gasp, before she could force a single syllable past the tight knot of terror in her throat, the line went completely dead.

The rhythmic beeping of the disconnected call filled the quiet car. A cold, bitter sneer curled slowly onto Clara's pale, sweat-slicked face. She stared at the darkened screen of her phone, the sheer cruelty of his rejection burning away the last remnants of her fragile hope. Clutching her bleeding stomach, she swore to the heavens that he would one day regret this profound cruelty. She swore she would never, ever forgive him.

Meanwhile, high above the city streets in his sprawling executive office, Sebastian sat rigidly behind his massive mahogany desk. The air in the room was suffocatingly tense. He was currently skimming the freshly signed divorce agreement, his dark eyebrows furrowing together in sheer disbelief.

Clara had asked for absolutely nothing.

He flipped through the crisp pages again, his eyes scanning the heavily structured legal jargon. There was no demand for alimony. No request for a division of marital assets. No claim to the Varkas Corporation shares she was rightfully entitled to as his wife. The only stipulation, the single string attached to her clean signature at the bottom of the page, was a rigid demand that he pull Valerius Holdings out of its current, devastating financial crisis.

As he stared at the elegant curves of her handwriting, a fleeting, dark suspicion crossed his mind. Clara's accusation in the hallway echoed in his ears. Could Selena have actually orchestrated the Valerius investigation behind his back? Could the gentle woman he thought he knew have deliberately triggered the sudden government probes that were currently bleeding the Valerius Dynasty dry?

He gripped the edge of the papers, his jaw tightening. However, he forcefully dismisses the thought almost instantly. It was impossible. He allowed his mind to flood with memories of a darker time—the terrifying months he had faced a lifetime of permanent blindness before his cornea transplant. The doctors had told him the damage from the car accident was irreversible without a donor. He remembered the endless, suffocating blackness. And he remembered Selena. She had stayed by his side at the care facility for a full six months. She had tirelessly cared for him, read to him, and anchored him when he wanted to give up.

Bound tightly by lingering guilt and a deep-seated sense of duty to his savior, Sebastian knew he owed Selena his life, and by extension, his loyalty. If Valerius Holdings was going down because of a feud between the two women, he would simply buy the problem away. He pushed the intercom button on his desk with unnecessary force.

Moments later, his assistant, Garrett, stepped into the office.

"Pull together everything you have on Valerius Holdings," Sebastian ordered, his voice an absolute, uncompromising bark. "Get the elite legal team up to the conference room in half an hour."

Garrett blinked, a flicker of genuine shock crossing his features. "Yes, Mr. Varkas," he replied, quickly masking his surprise. He glanced briefly at the divorce papers sitting on the desk before turning on his heel to summon the lawyers, tasked with resolving the Valerius mess once and for all.

Hours later, the world slowly swam back into focus for Clara. She blinked awake, her eyes stinging under the harsh, blinding fluorescent lights of a hospital bed. The smell of harsh antiseptics instantly assaulted her senses.

The moment consciousness fully returned, the memory of the blood in the car slammed into her. Clara instantly clutched her belly in sheer terror, gasping loudly for air as she tried to sit up.

"Ms. Valerius, please, try to remain calm," a voice instructed smoothly.

The attending doctor quickly moved to her bedside, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder to guide her back against the pillows. "You're awake. Please don't panic. The baby is currently stable."

Clara’s frantic breathing hitched. "Stable? Are you sure?"

"Yes," the doctor assured her in a calm, professional voice. "However, you experienced a severe physical trauma and immense stress. I've ordered a three-day course of specialized injections. You require strict observation in the hospital to prevent a miscarriage. You cannot afford any more emotional shocks right now."

Relief, so powerful it made her dizzy, washed over Clara. She sank back into the mattress, resting her hand protectively over her lower abdomen.

Shortly after the doctor left, the heavy door to the private room burst open. Her best friend, Maya, stormed in, a literal hurricane of furious energy. Maya had handled the hospital admission papers, and the moment she saw Clara hooked up to an IV, she completely lost her mind. She was absolutely overflowing with violent rage toward Sebastian and his new, manipulative lover.

"I swear, may Selena rot for all I care!" Maya screamed, pacing the length of the hospital room, her fists clenched tight. "And Sebastian? That absolute cheating bastard has no conscience at all! After everything your family did for him, he leaves you bleeding in a parking garage for his so-called true love? I'll nail him to the wall, Clara! I'll dump every shred of evidence at the courthouse and make sure he walks out with nothing!"

Yet, amidst Maya's screaming curses and wild threats, Clara remained entirely unfazed. She leaned back against the stark white pillows, her expression a mask of chilling, unnatural calm. The fiery, desperate love she had harbored for Sebastian Varkas had completely burned out, leaving nothing but cold, gray ash behind.

"The baby is mine, period," Clara stated with cold, unshakable resolve, her quiet voice instantly cutting off Maya's explosive rant.

Maya froze, turning to look at her friend in stunned silence.

"Sebastian has nothing to do with it," Clara continued, her eyes dark and hollow. "He isn't even worthy of being this child's father. He couldn't care less about me, and he won't care about this baby."

"But... what are you going to do?" Maya asked, her voice dropping to a worried whisper. "If his family finds out, they'll rip you apart for custody."

Clara shook her head, a faint, humorless smile touching her pale lips. Her master plan was firmly set in stone. "My only priority right now is ensuring Valerius Holdings is entirely safe from ruin. Once I receive confirmation that the crisis is handled and my family's legacy is secure, I'm leaving. I'll move far abroad to Javarra. I'll raise this child completely alone, and I will surgically erase Sebastian Varkas from our lives forever. By the time I return, no one will even know who the father is."

Three grueling days of strict medical observation later, Clara was finally discharged. The heavy iron gates of Argent Cove loomed before her cab. She returned to the hollow, suffocating quiet of the sprawling estate that had been her prison for a year.

The moment she stepped through the grand double doors, her loyal maid, Greta, rushed forward. Greta’s face was streaked with fresh tears, her hands wringing her apron.

"Mrs. Varkas, thank goodness you're home," Greta pleaded, her voice breaking into a sob. "Mr. Varkas's secretary was just here. He dropped off the finalized papers. Please, Mrs. Varkas, can't you reconsider? Just talk to him one last time!"

Ignoring the heartbroken, tearful pleas of the woman who had been her only company, Clara offered a stiff, comforting nod, but walked straight past her. She ascended the grand staircase, her footsteps echoing in the massive, painfully silent house, and walked directly into the master bedroom.

There, sitting starkly on the polished mahogany bedside table, were the finalized divorce papers. Beside the heavy legal documents lay a sleek, premium bank card.

Clara stared at the plastic rectangle. It was a massive severance package, a payout for a year of her life and her quiet dignity. Slowly, deliberately, Clara turned away. She left the card entirely untouched on the nightstand, a silent, damning testament to her absolute refusal to take a single penny from the man who broke her.

Moving mechanically, she pulled a single suitcase from the closet. She packed only her essential clothing and personal belongings, leaving behind every expensive gown, every piece of designer jewelry, and every gift that bore the Varkas name.

Zipping the suitcase shut, she rolled it out into the hallway. But as she paused at the very top of the grand staircase, her rigid composure finally fractured. She looked back at the sprawling, painfully empty, and lonely house she had endured in utter silence for an entire year. She remembered the countless nights waiting by the window, the whispered gossip of the socialites, the suffocating loneliness that had eaten away at her soul. Finally, she allowed her meticulously constructed walls to crack, letting the hot, bitter tears fall freely down her cheeks in the empty silence.

By the time her cab reached the bustling terminals of the international airport, Clara’s phone buzzed in her purse. She pulled it out and read the final, formal notification from her family's legal team. Sebastian had fully honored their agreement. He had injected the massive, necessary funds and utilized his corporate power to completely save Valerius Holdings from the brink of destruction.

The debt was paid. The transaction was complete. All formal ties between them were officially, irrevocably severed.

An hour later, sitting quietly in her first-class seat on the airplane as the massive jet engines roared to life, Clara closed her eyes. The heavy vibration of the aircraft rumbling down the runway vibrated through her bones. She rested both hands gently on her lower belly, feeling the slight, protective warmth radiating beneath her palms.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, a genuine, radiant smile broke through her profound exhaustion.

"Little one," she whispered softly into the pressurized cabin air, her voice carrying a fragile but unbreakable hope. "Mommy's taking you somewhere new. We're going to start fresh. Aren't you excited?"

As the plane lifted off the tarmac, banking sharply into the sky, Clara turned her head to stare out the small, oval window. She watched the sprawling city below shrink into meaningless, distant grids, soon swallowed entirely by the drifting, endless expanse of white clouds. She silently, firmly closed the heavy, iron door on her traumatic past, locking the pain away for good.

"Goodbye, Sebastian," she whispered to the empty sky. "From now on, it's your life and mine—we'll each find our own way."