Chapter 3 - A SECRET BENEATH HER HEART
The following morning, Clara woke to the smell of pancakes.
She sat upright.
For a moment, she forgot where she was.
Then she remembered.
The mansion.
Maximilian.
The baby.
She dressed carefully and went downstairs.
The kitchen was enormous.
A cook stood behind the island.
Mrs. Gable was organizing flowers.
And Maximilian Russo was attempting to make pancakes.
Clara stopped.
He flipped one.
It landed on the floor.
Everyone froze.
Maximilian stared at it.
Then at Clara.
“Good morning.”
Clara covered her mouth.
“Did you just burn a pancake?”
“No.”
Mrs. Gable cleared her throat.
“It fell.”
Maximilian looked at her.
“I know what happened.”
Clara laughed.
The entire kitchen became silent.
Maximilian looked at her.
Not offended.
Surprised.
Clara realized she was laughing at him.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don't be.”
He pushed a plate toward her.
“Eat.”
She sat.
The pancakes were terrible.
She ate two anyway.
For the first time in years, breakfast felt almost normal.
But normal didn't last.
At ten, Clara's father took a turn for the worse.
She rushed to the hospital.
Maximilian insisted on driving her.
“I can take a taxi.”
“No.”
“Mr. Russo—”
“Maximilian.”
She looked at him.
“You want me to call you Max?”
“Yes.”
“That seems dangerously informal.”
“I'll survive.”
At the hospital, Clara found her father's doctor waiting.
“Ms. Jenkins.”
Her heart sank.
“What happened?”
“Your father needs surgery.”
“How much?”
The doctor hesitated.
Clara understood immediately.
Maximilian stepped beside her.
“How much?”
Clara looked at him.
“No.”
“Clara.”
“I can handle it.”
“You've been handling it alone.”
She stared at him.
The doctor quietly gave them the estimate.
Maximilian didn't blink.
“Schedule it.”
Clara grabbed his arm.
“No.”
He looked down at her hand.
“You don't get to decide everything for me.”
“No.”
His voice softened.
“But I can make sure money isn't the reason your father dies.”
She couldn't answer.
That evening, the surgery was scheduled.
Her father survived.
And Clara cried in the hospital hallway.
Maximilian stood beside her.
He didn't touch her.
He simply stayed.
After several minutes, Clara whispered,
“Why are you so different when nobody is watching?”
He looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Everyone thinks you're terrifying.”
“They're usually correct.”
“But you're not.”
“I am.”
She shook her head.
“I don't think so.”
He looked away.
“You should.”
“Why?”
“Because people who get close to me tend to get hurt.”
Clara's expression softened.
“Then maybe you should stop deciding for other people who gets to stay.”
He looked at her.
That sentence followed him for days.
Meanwhile, Vanessa made her move.
She approached Clara in the garden.
“I'm Vanessa.”
Clara knew immediately.
“You work with Maximilian?”
“Something like that.”
Vanessa smiled.
“I've known him for years.”
Clara nodded politely.
“That's nice.”
“You should be careful.”
“With what?”
“With believing everything he tells you.”
Clara's expression tightened.
“I don't believe everything he tells me.”
“Good.”
Vanessa stepped closer.
“Because Maximilian has never told you the truth about the night you met.”
Clara froze.
“What do you mean?”
Vanessa smiled.
“You think you saved him.”
She leaned closer.
“You didn't.”
Then she walked away.
Clara stood alone in the garden.
For the first time since arriving at the estate, doubt entered her heart.
That evening, she confronted Maximilian.
“What happened at the St. Regis?”
His expression changed.
“Why?”
“Because someone told me I don't know the truth.”
“Who?”
“Vanessa.”
His jaw tightened.
“What did she say?”
“That I didn't save you.”
Maximilian was silent.
Clara's heart sank.
“Is she right?”
“No.”
“Then tell me.”
He looked at her.
“You saved me.”
“Everything?”
He hesitated.
That hesitation was enough.
Clara stepped backward.
“What aren't you telling me?”
Maximilian's eyes darkened.
“Clara…”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You promised me responsibility.”
May you like
She touched her stomach.
“Then give me the truth.”
