The Wife he threw Away (Claire and Lucian) novel Chapter 270

I woke before my alarm even went off.

For several seconds, I simply stared at the ceiling, still half asleep.

Then everything came rushing back.

Hart Sullivan. The phone. The two-week delay.

I reached for my phone on the nightstand before I had even properly opened my eyes.

Nothing.

No notifications, no messages, no missed calls.

I checked again, even though I knew there was nothing there.

Still nothing from Hart.

I sighed and dropped the phone back onto the mattress.

The court had given the defense two weeks before proceedings continued.

Two weeks was enough time for Eva to do almost anything.

The only reason this case was in court is because Eva had already spent years manipulating people, destroying reputations and turning other people’s weaknesses into weapons.

What could she do with fourteen days?

Probably anything and everything.

I didn’t know.

And that was the problem— I hated not knowing.

I got out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

By the time I was dressed, my thoughts were already racing.

Maybe Eva’s team would try to discredit Hart’s phone.

Maybe they would claim the messages had been fabricated.

Maybe she’d somehow convince Hart that testifying against her would destroy whatever remained of his life.

Or maybe—

I stopped myself.

I was doing it again— trying to predict every possible disaster before it happened.

I picked up my handbag.

Enough.

I needed to work.

That would keep my mind occupied.

At least, that was what I told myself.

⸻

Sinclair & Co. was already busy when I arrived.

Lawyers moved through the halls carrying files and laptops. Assistants rushed between offices. Phones rang constantly.

Normally, the familiar chaos comforted me.

Today, it didn’t.

I walked into my office and dropped my handbag beside my desk.

Then I sat down.

Opened my laptop.

Read the same paragraph three times.

Closed the document.

Opened another.

Read two sentences.

Checked my phone.

Nothing.

I frowned at myself.

This was ridiculous.

Hart wasn’t going to make a decision faster because I stared at my screen every thirty seconds.

I forced myself to work.

For the next hour, I reviewed evidence we’d already collected, made notes about potential arguments the defense might raise and went through several documents Margot had asked me to examine.

But every task eventually led me back to the same thought.

Hart.

I wondered what he was doing.

Whether he was thinking about the plea arrangement.

Whether he was thinking about Eva.

Whether he was thinking about the phone he’d given Margot.

Whether he regretted giving it to her.

And whether Eva knew.

My stomach tightened.

If she didn’t know yet, she would eventually find out.

And when she did—

I didn’t want to imagine what she’d do.

“Morning.”

I looked up.

Daniel stood in my doorway.

He was holding two takeaway cups.

“Morning.”

He walked in and placed one cup on my desk. “Your regular.”

I stared at the cup, smiling faintly.

Daniel had been doing this for so long that it had become almost automatic.

Whenever he went downstairs for coffee, he brought mine too.

It was the same order I always took— the same size, the same everything.

“Thank you.”

He nodded and turned to leave.

Then I caught the smell.

Coffee.

Normally, it was comforting. Familiar.

Something I associated with long mornings and too many late nights.

But today—

It made my stomach turn.

I immediately pushed the cup a little farther away from me.

Daniel noticed the movement, and stopped by the door.

He looked at me, then at the coffee, then back at me.

“What?”

“Nothing.” I lied.

“You just looked at that coffee like it personally offended you.”

I laughed weakly. “I don’t know… there’s something about the smell.”

I picked up the cup.

The smell hit me again, making my stomach twist.

I quickly put it back down. “I don’t think I want it.”

Daniel’s eyebrows shot up.

“You don’t want coffee?” He asked, placing careful emphasis on every word.

I shook my head.

He stared at me as though I’d just announced that I was resigning from law.

“Are you sick?”

“No.”

“Are you dying?”

I laughed at that. “Come on, Daniel.”

“I’m serious. You’ve never rejected coffee in the entire time I’ve known you.”

“I know.”

I looked at the cup again. “I just don’t feel like drinking it.”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “That’s disturbing.”

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