The quiet was almost deafening.
Clara sat in the backseat of the black Bentley, her fingers loosely curled on her lap, her red nails a stark contrast against the pale blue file she clutched. Outside the tinted window, the city moved like a dream—unaware, uninterested, untouched. Just like Damien.
She didn't flinch when the driver took a sharp turn toward the city courthouse. She didn't speak. Her mind was too busy wading through emotions she didn't have the luxury to feel anymore.
This time, she wasn't going to break.
Not again.
Last night's gala was still etched in her mind like a vivid painting. The flash of cameras, the stunned whispers when she walked in with confidence, the disbelief on Damien's face when she greeted dignitaries like she belonged. For once, she hadn't been the accessory by his side. She had been the storm.
But today wasn't about showing strength.
Today was about cutting ties.
Quietly. Finally.
The elevator chimed, and she stepped into the cool marble halls of the courthouse. Her heels echoed softly—every step a countdown. She paused only once, glancing at the frosted glass door that bore the words:"Family Law – Civil Division"
She exhaled, pushed it open, and stepped inside.
The receptionist barely looked up. "How may I help you?"
Clara offered a calm smile. "I'm here to file for an annulment. I've already prepared the necessary documents."
The woman blinked, taking the file Clara handed over. Her gaze flicked from Clara's elegant appearance to the name on the form.
Damien Roth.
As in… that Damien Roth?
The woman didn't speak her curiosity out loud. Clara appreciated that.
Instead, she took the file and nodded. "We'll file this under expedited processing. You've already completed most of the requirements. It may take two to three weeks to finalize the notice, provided your husband doesn't contest."
Clara's lips lifted in the faintest smile.
Oh, he wouldn't contest.
Not if he didn't know.
Two Days Earlier
She'd woken up with a clarity she hadn't felt in weeks.
It wasn't the bitterness that filled her this time. It wasn't anger. It was something colder, calmer—like the eye of a storm after it had wrecked everything in its path.
She stood in front of the mirror in the walk-in closet, examining herself. The woman staring back at her was no longer naïve. No longer a puppet to love or guilt.
"Let him think I'm still his," she whispered, tilting her head. "Just a little longer."
Damien had been distant since the gala. Clearly stunned that she'd turned heads instead of shrinking behind him. She could feel the imbalance brewing—he was used to controlling the room, and he hadn't liked sharing it.
She needed that advantage. His silence.
And it gave her the perfect window to act.
She called her grandfather's lawyer using an old number she'd memorized before time reversed. Mr. Falkner was sharp, discreet, and just as calculating as she remembered.
"I need you to process a secret annulment," she said with no preamble.
There was a pause on the other end. Then a chuckle.
"I knew you'd return a different woman, Clara. And I'm glad for it."
Back in the present, Clara exited the courthouse.
The wind was sharp, but her heart was sharper.
She turned her face to the gray sky and let the chill remind her that she was alive, in control. This wasn't just about revenge anymore. It was about reclaiming the power she'd given away.
For the first time in two timelines, she had made a move without fear.
Without tears.
Later That Night
Damien returned late—again.
He barely looked at her as he walked in, removing his tie like the world owed him its silence. Clara sat on the edge of the couch, reading, her feet crossed beneath her.
"You didn't wait for me?" he asked casually, pouring himself a drink.
Clara glanced up, her smile polite. "I wasn't hungry."
He raised a brow. "You've been skipping meals lately. You should take better care of yourself."
A week ago, she would've believed that was concern.
Now, she knew it was control disguised as care.
"I'll keep that in mind," she replied lightly.
There was a moment of silence. Damien stared at her for a beat longer than usual.
"You were… impressive at the gala," he said at last. "Not what I expected."
Clara placed her book down gently. "Did you think I'd stay in your shadow forever?"
The challenge in her voice surprised even her. But she didn't flinch.
He didn't answer.
Instead, he downed the rest of his drink and walked past her to the stairs.
Clara watched his retreating form and resisted the urge to laugh bitterly.
The old Clara would've read meaning into that compliment. Would've melted, hoping for affection.
But she wasn't that woman anymore.
She was the woman who filed for annulment behind his back.
The Next Day
News traveled fast in high society. And Clara knew it was only a matter of time before Damien's assistant caught wind of legal documents arriving at the Roth estate.
So she had to act.
She went to the firm in person—Mr. Falkner had warned her there was a chance Damien's lawyer might intercept the notice early.
The goal wasn't to shock Damien.
It was to outsmart him.
When she arrived, Mr. Falkner greeted her with his usual unflinching professionalism.
"There's been a development," he said as they sat.
Clara raised a brow. "Go on."
"It appears Damien Roth has a standing clause in his marital contract… if an annulment is filed against him, his legal team is to be notified instantly."
Clara blinked. "But our marriage contract—"
"Was drafted by his lawyers. You signed it under emotional duress, yes?"
She nodded slowly. She remembered that night—the rush, the pressure, the heartbreak that made her desperate to stay relevant in Damien's world.
"I should've known," she muttered.
"Don't worry," Falkner said. "I anticipated this. I've already filed a temporary injunction to delay the notification by 72 hours under a confidentiality clause. That gives us time to finalize the process and secure a quiet court date."
Clara exhaled. Relief didn't come easy anymore, but it flickered through her chest.
"Thank you," she whispered.
He leaned forward. "Clara. What you're doing takes courage. Don't let guilt poison your progress. You're saving yourself."
And for once, she believed it.
That Evening: Damien Finds Out
She wasn't home when it happened.
That was the plan.
Damien's assistant burst into his office at 7:23 p.m., a stack of legal papers trembling in her hand. His mood, already dark from a frustrating board meeting, twisted into something more dangerous.
"What is it?" he snapped.
The assistant swallowed. "Sir… this just came from the courthouse."
He scanned the papers, his eyes narrowing at each line.
Annulment. Uncontested. Filed by: Clara West-Roth.
It hit him like a blade to the chest.
He slammed the file shut.
"What the hell is this?"
The assistant stepped back. "Sir, I—I think she—"
"I know what this is," Damien growled.
He stormed out, rage bubbling beneath his expensive suit.
Later That Night
Clara was at her grandfather's estate.
She'd told Damien she was visiting an old friend for dinner. It wasn't a lie—her grandfather was, in fact, her only real friend right now.
They were drinking tea when a call came through.
Unknown number. Clara hesitated, then answered.
"You think you can just leave me?" Damien's voice was like a whip.
Her breath caught. "You weren't supposed to find out yet."
"Do you think you can manipulate me like this? File some cowardly annulment behind my back?"
She stood from the table, walking into the hallway. "It's not cowardly if I'm finally doing what's right for me."
He was silent for a moment. Then:
"Do you know what this will do to your reputation? To mine?"
She laughed. "Oh, Damien. You only care now because you didn't get to throw me away first."
Silence crackled on the line.
"You're making a mistake," he said finally.
"No," Clara whispered, eyes shining with tears she refused to let fall. "I made the mistake five years ago when I married you. I'm just correcting it now."
She hung up before he could reply.
And for the first time, the quiet that followed… didn't scare her.
It felt like freedom.
To Be Continued…