A Desperate Plea

Clara

Only seventy-two hours left.

I keep murmuring that countdown under my breath as my shoes hit the pavement along the quiet lane, my thoughts still tangled around the chance that I might be pregnant, even while I gear up to fight for my sister. Focusing on the test is my way of keeping steady right now. I am walking straight toward Kaelen Thorne's estate to plead for Tessa's career, and clinging to that small spark of hope is the only thing getting my feet down the block.

The security detail stationed around his perimeter spots me right away. Watching their lips move into their collar mics as I close the distance makes it obvious they are alerting their boss that someone is approaching.

Stepping tentatively up the drive behind Kaelen, I question for the hundredth time whether coming out here is a terrible idea. What right does someone like me have to ask a massive favor from one of the richest, most influential men in the world?

Giving my head a quick shake, I force that doubting voice to be quiet—this is about saving Tessa. Whenever it comes to standing up for myself, my courage usually falters, yet I can find the backbone to do it for her.

"Mr. Thorne?" I call out in a shaky voice, my heart thudding hard in my chest.

Pivoting on his heel, he looks down at me with an unreadable, commanding expression. "Yes?"

"My name is Clara Vance, and I work as the nanny for Milo and Lila Hayes next door," I start, catching my bottom lip between my teeth.

His dark gaze drops straight to my mouth and lingers there for a beat, leaving me feeling like a cornered rabbit staring up at a starving wolf.

"I already know who you are, Clara." Hearing him say my first name in that low, gravelly baritone sends a sudden chill racing down my back, because he speaks the syllables with deliberate weight, almost as though my name holds some personal significance to him.

"Right… well, I really don't want to overstep, only I'm close friends with Dr. Tessa Mercer…" The instant her name leaves my mouth, his entire face shutters, a sudden, sharp emotion flickering across his dark eyes.

"She mentioned running into some serious trouble at the clinic, and I happen to know you're one of the facility's major financial backers," I scramble to make up on the spot. "While I don't know the exact details of what she's being blamed for, I know for a fact she didn't do it. Tessa treats her medical work with total dedication, and she would never be reckless enough to jeopardize her license."

"And what exactly are you expecting me to do about her situation?" Kaelen replies, his tone dropping into a dangerous register.

It is painfully clear he doesn't buy my clumsy cover story for a second. His posture has gone completely rigid, and a palpable wave of fury practically hums in the space between us.

"I only thought… well, I was hoping that since your word carries so much weight with the board, you might consider speaking up on her behalf," I trail off as heat rushes into my face. Deep embarrassment washes over me for delivering such a weak pitch, though there is no easy way to navigate a mess like this without accidentally landing Tessa in even deeper water than she is already facing.

Kaelen stares down at me in cold silence while every instinct in my head screams at me to turn around and bolt down the driveway. "From everything brought to my attention, your friend committed a massive blunder, making the repercussions she is facing entirely warranted. The smartest move she can make right now is owning up to what she did, rather than hiding behind you and sending you over to my house to handle her dirty work."

"No—she didn't send me, she has no clue I even came here today! I swear to you," I rush out in panic.

"I have nothing left to say on the subject," Kaelen states flatly before turning his back on me and walking briskly through his front entrance.

The heavy door slams shut in my face, leaving me stranded on the stones with his security team closing in.

"Time for you to head out, miss," the closest guard orders in a clipped tone.

"I can't leave yet," I cry out, standing my ground. "He needs to listen to me—this is going to ruin her whole life!"

"We aren't going to tell you twice," a second huge man warns, his deep voice carrying an unmistakable edge.

"Please, she didn't do anything wrong," I try again. "You have to let me—"

Before I can get another word out, both men clamp their heavy hands around my upper arms and start hauling me toward the street. Panic takes over, and I plant my sneakers hard against the driveway, figuring my pride is a tiny price to pay if it saves Tessa's future. "Please, I'm begging you, just give me one more minute with Mr. Thorne."

"You already had your say with him," the first bodyguard mutters while yanking me forward. "And quite frankly, you ought to be grateful he let you off as easily as he did, seeing as your doctor friend obviously blabbed about confidential matters she had no business sharing."

A second later, they shove me past the boundary line and out onto the concrete pavement with enough force to knock me completely off my feet. I hit the hard ground on my hands and knees as hot tears sting my eyes, and the towering iron gates clang shut right behind my back, leaving me no option but to scramble up and hurry down the block before I can humiliate myself any further.

Naturally, that disaster turned out to be just the opening act for my bad luck. Pulling up to the Hayes house the following morning for my shift, I slid my key into the front deadbolt only to realize the metal teeth wouldn't catch in the cylinder anymore.

Baffled, I rapped my knuckles against the wood and waited on the porch until the door finally flew open a few minutes later, revealing Milo and Lila's mother glaring daggers at me.

"My house keys aren't turning in the lock," I say, completely thrown by the sheer hostility radiating from her face.

"They aren't supposed to," she replies in an icy voice. "Starting yesterday afternoon, our family no longer has any need for your help."

"Wait… are you letting me go?" I stammer, struggling to process what she is saying. "What did I do?"

"Someone from the neighborhood called to tip us off," she snaps, tilting her chin up. "We were informed that you carelessly allowed Milo to dart straight into traffic a few days ago where a passing car nearly ran him down! On top of that, people watched you causing a ridiculous scene outside Kaelen Thorne's estate yesterday—apparently his security guards had to physically haul you off the premises like some kind of street criminal."

"That's completely unfair, because none of it went down like that!" I protest, my voice cracking. "Milo tossed his action figure into the street and bolted after it before anyone could stop him, and the situation over at Mr. Thorne's house was just a terrible mix-up."

"Save your excuses, because I'm not interested," she snaps back. "Get off my porch right now before I call the cops."

"Please, can't you just let me step inside for two minutes to say goodbye to the children?" I beg, praying she has enough heart to grant me that one small mercy.

"I'm calling them right now," she says flatly, sliding her phone out of her pants pocket.

"Don't!" I throw both hands up in surrender, stepping backward down the stairs. "Don't dial, I'm leaving right now."

For the second day in a row, I end up walking away from these massive, wealthy homes in total disgrace while tears spill down my cheeks. Losing my income is terrifying enough, yet what really breaks my heart is being barred from hugging Milo and Lila one last time or telling them why I vanished. Their mother is undoubtedly going to feed them some awful story about me abandoning them, erasing the past two years I spent pouring my heart into caring for those two kids.

There is zero doubt in my mind that Kaelen Thorne engineered my firing. My former employer's claim about a concerned neighbor calling her is a blatant lie—Kaelen clearly decided to make me pay for showing up at his gates, the exact same way he is trying to destroy Tessa's career.

Hot, blinding anger surges through my chest, making me wish I had the power to strike back and make him hurt the way he is hurting us. Holding onto spite has never been in my nature, yet watching my entire world crumble around my ears—knowing his ruthless interference caused half of it—leaves me shaking with rage.

Every last dollar in my savings account went toward paying the clinic for my insemination, meaning that without a steady paycheck, my bank balance is practically zero. How on earth am I supposed to buy supplies or support a newborn baby on nothing? And after that ugly confrontation on the porch, getting a decent job reference from Mrs. Hayes is completely out of the question.

Just when it feels like my week cannot possibly hit a lower point, I drag myself back to my apartment complex and pull a thick wad of envelopes out of my mailbox, half of them bearing return addresses from financial companies I have never dealt with in my life. Standing in the hallway, I tear the paper seams open one after another, my confusion quickly shifting into cold dread as I scan the past-due notices.

Reading down the itemized lists of retail purchases printed across the statements makes my stomach drop, because every single charge comes from Trent's favorite upscale clothing and electronics shops. Did he actually open credit lines under my name behind my back, intercepting the paper statements from the mail for months—or maybe even years—so I wouldn't catch on?

Confronting Trent directly is pointless since he will just lie to my face and deny the whole thing, leaving me with only one stomach-turning way to get the truth.

I have to pick up my phone and dial Sloane. My former best friend may have stabbed me in the back by sleeping with my boyfriend, yet if anyone knows the dirty details of what Trent has been doing with that money, it is definitely her.