A Video

POV: Clara.

I stormed out of the private elevator, my fists clenched so tightly that my manicured nails dug painful, bloody crescents into my palms. I marched straight back to Derek’s front door, pushing it wide open since I hadn't bothered to shut it completely during my initial, frantic escape. I slipped inside, but as I stood in the dimly lit hallway just outside his bedroom, my chest heaved. I desperately tried to draw a steady breath. What exactly was I doing? Should I barge in there?

My initial burst of confident, volcanic fury suddenly wavered. Every fiber of my being wanted to violently kick that bedroom door wide open. I wanted to scream at them, force them to look me in the eye, and demand answers. I wanted to stand over the bed, point a shaking finger at my estranged stepsister, and shout, "You stole my fiancé!"

But my heavy steps faltered. My deep, agonizing knowledge of Chloe's true nature held me firmly in place. I knew exactly how she operated. If I burst in there throwing accusations, she would simply deny the reality of the situation in front of our father. She would flawlessly play the weeping, innocent victim. She would twist the entire narrative, claiming I was just a jealous, delusional liar, just like she had done the last time. She would turn on the waterworks, effectively making me look like the cruel, unhinged villain of her tragic life story.

Still, the burning need to ask Derek if a single second of our last five years together actually meant anything to him gnawed at my soul. Mustering every ounce of my shattered courage, I silently wiped the hot tears from my cheeks and slipped further into the apartment, inching closer to the bedroom door.

I froze completely, my blood turning to absolute ice, when Chloe’s soft, smug, and venomous voice purred from the bed.

"You’ve kept it a secret for four long years," Chloe praised, her tone dripping with malicious satisfaction. "I’m so incredibly proud of you, Derek. You’re simply awesome. I only wanted to finish college and then marry you properly. I honestly couldn’t bear the thought of seeing my pathetic stepsister have your kids."

Derek’s subsequent cruel, mocking laugh hit me like a violent physical blow to the stomach. "Clara’s a total moron," he sneered casually, the familiar voice I loved now laced with absolute disdain. "She’s so blindly in love with me that she never notices a damn thing. It has been incredibly easy to manipulate her from the very start."

*Manipulate me?*

I stood paralyzed in the shadows, holding my breath as fresh, silent tears slipped down my pale cheeks. The sheer depth of their twisted, premeditated plot was slowly unspooling right in front of me, far worse than a simple moment of infidelity.

Chloe chuckled darkly, her sultry voice cutting through the quiet room. "I’m eagerly waiting for your divorce. Then we can finally start our own business together. I’ve been dreaming about it for so damn long!"

Derek let out a pleased hum. "Of course, my love. I promise you, I’ll divorce Clara a mere month after the wedding. Once we are officially married, she receives her twenty-million-dollar inheritance. And under that specific, beautiful legal clause her grandfather wrote into his will, if she divorces within six months of the marriage, the entirety of that money defaults directly to her husband." He paused, planting a loud kiss on her. "So, all of that cash will come straight to us, baby. I coldly calculated it. I only have to tolerate her annoying presence for one more month."

I violently pressed my trembling palm against the hallway wall, feeling dizzy, like the floor had suddenly dropped out from beneath my feet. My heart pounded a deafening rhythm in my ears. I knew all about my inheritance. Everyone in our inner circle knew the strict stipulations—that I would legally acquire the massive fortune immediately after my wedding, but would completely lose it if the marriage dissolved within a six-month window.

"You're brilliant, Derek Vance," Chloe snickered maliciously. "Gosh, I seriously hate seeing her stupid face. She walks around that massive house acting like she owns everything and everyone. The entitled bitch doesn’t even know how incredibly fast her perfect little world is going to crumble. Then, I will finally exact my revenge. After she loses her twenty-million-dollar inheritance, my father will be so disgusted that he will write Clara out of his will forever."

Derek laughed hard, a booming, arrogant sound. "You’re beautifully wicked, Chloe. Just be patient for a few more weeks, baby. Then we will absolutely have it all."

The horrifying realization slammed into me. They hadn't just made a mistake; they had systematically planned my total financial and emotional downfall for years. If I simply walked in there and confronted them with empty hands, it would be the most foolish mistake of my life.

"Come on, ride me, baby!" Derek groaned loudly, the bedsprings squeaking. "Let’s celebrate our victory."

Anger erupted inside my chest like an active volcano, burning away the paralyzing sorrow. *Celebrate my downfall?* I refused to let them destroy me without a fight. I reached into my pocket, pulled out my smartphone, and opened the camera app. My finger tapped the record button. I pointed the lens through the crack in the door, capturing their voices and the undeniable audio of their betrayal. I planned to send this damning proof straight to my father to immediately call off the wedding.

"Oh baby, you’re so incredibly tight, you feel so good!" Derek grunted as the wet sounds of their bodies slapping together echoed in the room, Chloe forcefully moving her hips on top of him.

But my violently trembling hands betrayed me. Shaking with pure, unfiltered rage, my grip slipped. The heavy smartphone tumbled from my fingers, hitting the hardwood floor with a sharp, echoing clatter.

The rhythmic sounds of sex abruptly stopped. Derek snapped his head toward the slightly open door, his chest heaving. "Clara!" he gasped in wide-eyed, absolute horror.

Chloe whipped her head around, her jaw dropping in panicked realization as she saw my shadow. "Shit!"

Panic surged through my veins. I immediately snatched the phone from the floor, my fingers desperately fumbling across the screen, and scrambled frantically down the hallway toward the front door.

Inside the bedroom, chaos erupted. Derek viciously shoved Chloe off his body. His hard cock slid out of her pussy with a loud, wet sound as he scrambled off the mattress. He rushed out of the bedroom and sprinted down the hall after me, completely naked.

"Clara! Clara, wait!" he roared, his heavy footsteps thundering behind me.

"I don’t want to hear a single damn thing from your lying mouth!" I shouted back, practically throwing myself at the front door. My thumbs furiously tapped the screen, attaching the undeniable video file to a message addressed to my father.

"Stop!" Derek shouted, his voice echoing in the corridor. "Don’t do this!"

I ripped the front door open, stepping out into the public hallway of the apartment building. "You both deserve to be thoroughly exposed for the absolute trash you are!"

"Stop this bullshit right now, Clara!" Derek roared, standing arrogantly in the doorway. He made no effort to cover himself. "No one else will ever marry you except me! Your marriage with me is written in stone!"

"I would rather die a painful death than marry a disgusting cheater!" I violently shouted back through my streaming tears. Without a second of hesitation, I pressed the send button. The undeniable video flew directly to my father's phone.

Derek took a step forward into the hall, but I was already sprinting toward the stairwell. He was left stranded, completely naked, his flaccid dick bouncing against his thighs, dripping in Chloe's wet juices. Just as I shoved the heavy exit door open, two curious neighbors stepped out of their respective apartments to investigate the loud commotion. I heard their shocked gasps as they got a full view of my naked, cheating fiancé, but I didn't look back. I bolted out of the building and into the cold night air.

I ran to my car as fast as my shaking legs could carry me, threw myself into the driver's seat, and slammed the locks. Pushing the engine to life, I peeled out of the parking lot, driving blindly into the night.

On the road, the glowing city lights blurred dramatically through the windshield, reflecting the deep emotional cuts bleeding in my chest. I forcefully blinked, trying to clear my clouded vision, but the tears wouldn't stop. My mind relentlessly played back the cruel, calculated words I had just recorded. *'Kept it a secret for four years.' 'Divorce in a month.' 'Twenty million inheritance gone.' 'Tolerate her for a month more.'*

I tightly gripped the leather steering wheel, my knuckles turning bone white. A dark, terrifying suspicion suddenly bloomed in my chaotic mind. I thought about my stepmother, Vera. For the past few months, she had been firmly and aggressively denying me opportunities to meet with Derek, constantly inventing excuses for why he was busy or why I needed to stay home. Did she know about the affair? Was she actively helping them by keeping me away from Derek so I wouldn't accidentally discover their disgusting secret? Was she ensuring their sick plan was executed flawlessly?

Then, my thoughts shifted to my father. If I had simply called him tonight and told him what I saw and heard, would he have believed me? No. Absolutely not. That was exactly why I had to send the video proof. He loved me, but ever since Chloe left home four years ago, he heavily bought into the narrative that I was an entitled, jealous brat. Without that video, Chloe would have lied through her teeth in front of him just to secure the massive payout, and he would have taken her side. Derek would have gladly watched me suffer, making the inevitable, forced marriage a living hell.

Painful, deeply buried high school memories flooded my mind, suffocating me in the cramped car. Four years ago, just after high school graduation, Chloe had packed her bags and left the house after a massive fight. She loudly told everyone I was the singular reason she could no longer live there. The house was thick with suffocating tension for weeks. My father chose to desperately calm Vera and Chloe instead of listening to a word I said. Despite his frantic efforts, Chloe left, swearing never to return. Since that fateful day, Daddy treated me like a ticking time bomb that might start another family crisis at any given moment. He watched me like I was a liability, a risk to manage. He scolded me constantly, punishing me for Chloe’s dramatic absence.

I remembered the inciting incident of that fight like it happened yesterday. Chloe had cried hysterically that afternoon. Her loud, dramatic sobs filled every corner of the house. She stood trembling in front of my father and her mother, perfectly playing the innocent victim. She sobbed that she would always just be a 'stepsister' and that I could never find it in my heart to accept her. Then, with a perfectly calculated, trembling voice, she heroically offered to leave the house so I could live "comfortably." Vera’s eyes had filled with sympathetic tears, and she suffered quietly, making it look as if Chloe’s noble sacrifice was physically breaking her maternal heart.

But the actual truth was entirely different. The massive fight had started because, on the last day of school, I caught Chloe making out with Zack. I had confided in her just a week prior that I had a massive crush on him.

I had walked into an empty classroom and found her sitting intimately close to him, cuddling him, kissing him deeply on the lips. When I furiously confronted her in the hallway later that day, she didn't show a single ounce of shame. Instead, she flashed a cruel, wicked smile, blatantly flaunting her victory. *"He never liked you anyway!"* she had sneered, casually flicking her brown hair over her shoulder.

The sting of Zack's betrayal was nothing compared to the deep, festering wound caused by my own stepsister. *"You can have him,"* I had replied, walking away to aggressively stifle my own feelings so she could be happy.

Yet, for some twisted reason, Chloe went straight home and initiated the dramatic tearfest, accusing me of doing the exact opposite. She blatantly lied to our parents, claiming that *I* was the one who forcefully kissed her boyfriend, Zack, and that I despised her for finding happiness. My father swallowed her lies whole and harshly scolded me, telling me to be more accommodating. Chloe left for college anyway, effectively trapping me in a permanent state of unearned guilt for four years.

It was during that profoundly isolating, painful fallout that Derek—who ironically happened to be Zack’s close friend—had stepped into the picture. He had approached me when I was vulnerable. He comforted me, meticulously pursued me, and slowly, systematically broke down my walls until I fell deeply, blindly in love with him. I was completely unaware that his affection was just the beginning of their synchronized, cruel game.

Now, the horrifying reality was bare. Chloe's venomous claws were dug deep into Derek as well. She had never stopped playing the game. She was systematically snatching away absolutely everything I cherished, piece by piece, intent on leaving me with nothing but ashes.