Chapter three

Clara admired the grandeur of Andrew Reynolds' mansion, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. It was all so overwhelming, so lavish, and so unfamiliar. She felt like a small fish in a big pond, completely out of her depth.

But then, a maid appeared and led her up to her room. As she settled onto the bed, she began to feel a little more at ease. Perhaps this new life wouldn't be so bad after all.

Just as she was about to change out of her dress, the door burst open, and Micheal walked in. Her heart raced as she tried to comprehend why he was there.

"What are you doing here?" she said, her voice cracking in surprise.

"I couldn't stay away from you, Clara," Michael remarked as he approached her.

But she pushed him away, still enraged at him for leaving her and failing to return her calls. "You abandoned me there to elope with a stranger!" she screamed.

"I'm sorry, Clara," Michael murmured, lowering his tone. "I was unable to attend that evening. "I discovered that Alexandro was the one who proposed to you."

Clara's thoughts raced as she realized what had happened. She couldn't believe her eyes. Was Alexandro Micheal's cousin? That was all too much to take in.

"How come you didn't tell me sooner?" she wondered, trying to make sense of it all.

"That was difficult," Michael said. "I didn't want to give you any more trouble. I reasoned that it was for the best."

Clara sat on the bed, her mind racing. She was at a loss for what to believe. Michael, was he speaking the truth? Has he known the whole time? She felt a wave of rage, bewilderment, and despair flood over her.

Clara couldn't help but be suspicious of Michael as he attempted to explain himself. How could she trust someone who had lied to her on such an essential matter?

She knew she didn't have much of a choice as she glanced around the room. Whether she liked it or not, this was her new existence. And she'd have to figure out how to make the most of it, even if that meant forgiving Michael and his lies.

He took a step forward, a solemn look on his face.

"We're in love, Clara," he said. "But think about it: with all that money and power, we could have everything we wanted. You might have access to all of his assets and money."

Clara took a step back as if she had been punched in the chest. What she was hearing was unbelievable to her. "Why didn't you show up at the railway station so I could marry him for his money?"

"Clara, after you have a kid for him, he'll give you and your child everything, and then we'll flee away together," he said. We were the only three. We'll start a fresh life somewhere else."

As she heard this, she was caught up in a whirlwind. Her pain and rage were too much for her to endure, so she responded instinctively.

She grabbed her hand and, before she realized what she was doing, slapped him across the face.

Her palm was still aching from the smack she'd just given him. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she attempted to understand what he had just spoken to her.

"How could you make such a suggestion?" She demanded, her voice trembling with rage and pain. "I thought you were in love with me!"

He took a step back, his face turning from confident to guilty, then to fearful. "I adore you, Clara," he murmured, his voice trembling. "But consider this: with all that money and power, we could have everything we wanted."

Clara was about to respond when the door burst open and her husband entered. He narrowed his eyes as he moved his gaze from her to Henry.

"What's going on here?" he said, his voice icy and solemn.

Clara instantly regained her composure. "Is he your cousin?" she said, motioning to Henry. "He came to find you."

Alexandro remained still, looking at them.

Clara then turned to Michael and stated firmly, "He'll be going now," signaling the end of the visit.

"It was wonderful meeting your wife, congratulations," he said to Alexandro. And with that, he abruptly exited the room.

Alexandro stood in the room, forcing her heart to rush with a combination of terror and rage.

"I want you to go as well," she stated firmly. "I need to change."

Alexandro laughed, oblivious to her suggestion. "You should become used to it, Clara. We are, after all, husband and wife." He murmured something in her ear.

He unzipped her garment quickly, allowing it to slide below her breast. Clara felt exposed and vulnerable, and panic crept up her spine.

She was exhaling and inhaling quickly, her chest rising and sinking with each frantic inhale and exhale.

He let out a low groan as the material separated, savoring the sight of her exquisite, silky flesh.

Clara's pulse was hammering as she felt Alexandro's hands wrap around her waist, drawing her close. His touch sent thrills up her spine as he slid his fingertips from her belly button to her chest.

His fingers reached her large, firm breasts and he couldn't stop himself from fondling them. Clara screamed at his touch, her pulse rushing even faster as he teased her more.

"Be ready, today we complete our marriage," Alexandro said, his breath hot on her ear.

Clara's legs buckled as he spoke, and she leaned in, entirely succumbing to his touch.

While still fondling her breasts, he trailed his tongue along the delicate flesh of her neck and up her ears. He could feel her body tense as a result of his contact. He came to a quick halt and drew back when he sensed she was nervous.

"We'll resume tomorrow; rest up." He muttered this as he went out the door.

Alexandro was aware of her friendship with his cousin, Michael, and hastened the wedding so she not elope with him. Nothing is safe from Alexandro.

He had always admired Clara from afar, and when her father went bankrupt and approached him for a partnership, he took advantage of the chance to claim Clara.

Alexandro went along the corridor, his footfall booming off the oak floorboards. His mind was set on claiming Clara's body as his own so she wouldn't think of another guy.

He exited the room, leaving Clara standing in a stupor. She was still processing the flood of feelings that had just passed through her body.

She examined herself in the dressing mirror, taking in her flushed skin and somewhat unkempt hair. Alexandro's body could still be felt all over her.

She couldn't believe what had just occurred to her. Nobody, not even her lover Michael, had ever made her feel that way. Michael was a nice man, but he'd never elicited the same level of passion and want from her as Andrew had.

Clara wondered whether she'd ever be able to break away from the poisonous cycle she'd fallen into with her rich husband, Alexandro, and his cousin, Michael, who was also her lover.

She inhaled deeply, attempting to calm her pounding heart. She realized she had no option but to accept her new identity as Mrs. Alexandro.

Clara stood up and proceeded into the restroom, her face solemn. She turned on the shower and let the hot water wash away her rage, anxiety, and fury.

As she looked in the mirror, she couldn't help but feel like a stranger in her skin. She was now Mrs. Alexandro, a name that sounded strange on her tongue.

"I am now Mrs. Alexandro," she told herself, attempting to persuade herself of the truth of her predicament.

She stood in the shower, her mind racing as the water cascaded down her body. She went back to the mirror and blurted out. "My name is Alexandro.