Clara remained stonily silent, her mind droning with the ruinous fallout of her failed meeting. Not only had Donald refused to invest- he'd gutted her particular and professional character with his harsh combination. How had he learned about the circumstances girding her divorce from Michael? More importantly, how could she avenge against such an important adversary? Because one thing was certain- Jonathan Donald had made an adversary this day. A revengeful, enduring adversary who would stop at nothing to make him pay. As her hostel suite came into view, Clara felt a rush of loathing so visceral, it stole her breath down. This was because of Michael. That snivelling, pathetic worm had orchestrated her downfall- she was sure of it. Well, no longer. It was time for Clara Robert to go on the attack. Settling in at her office, she began firing off a flurry of emails and calls to her vast network of connections and snitches in the Beaumont demi world. She'd uncover every last secret about

Clara’s face fell on hearing the news. She was sitting opposite her mother on the sofa of their small apartment. Mrs. Robert was stroking the back of Clara’s left palm as she spoke to her.“I loved him very much, mom.” She said with a voice near crying. “Is it wrong to love a man so much that you would do anything to make them happy?”“There is nothing wrong with it dear. He is the wrong one. You loved him and if he was too selfish to see it, it was his loss, not yours.”Clara burst into silent sobs. Her head was bowed, almost touching her mother’s lap.“You know that the doctor prescribed that you stay happy and positive as it will help you heal faster. You cannot be depressed now, at least not today.”“Mom, I know the stabs Peter inflicted on my back are not healed and will very soon heal but the emotional wounds hurt more. I feel I will never heal from them.”“ my dear. Don't ever say that. You will be whole and happy again, I promise you.”Mrs. Robert stretched her hand and rubbed

The following evening, Clara stood before the assessing wrought- iron gates of the Donald estate, steeling herself for the battle ahead. She cut an intimidating figure in her satiny burgundy dress and towering stilettos, every inch the power player ready to claim her due place among Beaumont's nobility. Liam cast her a reassuring regard as the gates swung open, granting them entry to the strictly manicured grounds." Just flash back what we bandied. Stay confident, do not let Donald rattle you." Clara gave a curt nod. She did not need his advice- she had been preparing for this moment her entire life. The woman of a fat businessman, prepped from birth to navigate Beaumont's savage social waters with cunning and grace. They were steered into a cavernous study, the walls lined with bottom- to- ceiling bookshelves and priceless vestiges. Behind an assessing mahogany office sat a tableware- haired man with cold, setting eyes. Jonathan Donald in the meat. "Ms. Robert," he said by way of gr

Diana gasped. She was shocked that Lima would show such a disinterested attitude to the matter at hand. She folded her hands and walked silently. At a point she left Liam behind and wanted to join her children.‘Where are you going?’ Liam asked, noticing her change in attitude and the silent treatment. He joined her and she slowed down, then she looked at him and asked.‘What do we do now?’He was deep in thoughts. He wasn’t going to give up just yet. They might have planned wrongly but it is time to restrategize and do things right. He turned to Diana and said.‘We have to get Michael drunk and ask the prostitute to pose with him. Then we can spread the pictures around. Such pictures will make the CEO sack him for misconduct and the ceo post will be vacant for me again. Then you can have the project, uncontested.’Diana looked at him. Her mouth fell open. She thought it was ridiculous at first but on a close look at it, she could see some sense in it. The last heist wasn’t successful

The conference room was tensed up. Isabella sat directly opposite Clara while Diana sat at an angle between them. Together, they formed a triangle. The table between them was white in colour and had a recorder on it. ‘Why are you doing this?’ Isabella asked; her voice calm and menacing. ‘I beg your pardon?’ Clarasaid. She clutched her bag and stood up, getting ready to leave. ‘Why are you giving this testimony about a man you supposedly loved and cherished?’‘I never said I loved him. I was going to. Maybe I would have loved him if he treated me right.’ ‘But what you are doing right now can be said to be character assassination. Do you know that?’‘I am not attacking someone I did not know. This man knows me, wooed me and dated me for almost two years.’‘Did he promise to marry you?’ Isabella asked.‘We were getting there?’‘Then what went wrong?’‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It is what he does. When he has used you to a certain time, he just breaks off the agreement.’‘Was there