Chapter 13
Ethan turned to Amber. “Is that true?”
“Of course not!” Amber protested, her voice trembling with
indignation. “Do you really think I’d ever dare to cross her?”
Tears welled up in her eyes, making her look pitiful beyond
measure.
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Ethan, predictably swayed by her act, softened his tone
immediately.
“Alright, alright. I believe in you. Just stop crying.”
He turned back to me with a look of disappointment. “Clara, I
know you’re upset about me giving your choreography to Amber, but she’s already been almost ruined because of you. Isn’t it enough? Do you really have to make up more lies to smear her?”
Behind him, Amber’s expression shifted into a smug, triumphant grin as she gave me a mocking look.
She was telling me, loud and clear, that Ethan’s trust belonged to her now–every last shred of it. Not a single ounce remained for me, the wife he had secretly been married to for seven years.
Suppressing my anger, I strode toward the practice room.
Ethan and Amber followed close behind watching as I picked up
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“You didn’t seriously think I was moving back in, did you?” I let out a sharp laugh. “I just remembered I left this flower behind. I didn’t want it to be tainted by the filth of a pair of shameless cheats.”
Ethan’s irritation showed as he sighed. “I’m not taking advantage of you, Clara. I’ve already arranged for you to join the Crimson Ballet Company. The lead dancer position is still yours. Plus, there are several upcoming dance shows. You won’t lose out.”
I chuckled coldly. “And let me guess, Amber is conveniently involved in all of these opportunities you’ve so kindly arranged for
me?”
I continued, “You’ll be the lead dancer, and she’ll be the supporting dancer. If I appear on a show, she’ll be a guest. You’re banking on me keeping my composure in front of the cameras so you can use me to help clean up her image. How pathetic are
you?”
“Clara Bennett!” Ethan’s face darkened with anger as he kicked
the table beside him.
Juice spilled from a glass on top of it, dangerously close to dripping onto the carpet. Amber rushed over to clean it up.
My gaze swept over the rag in her hand, and my eyes widened in shock. “Stop!”
I rushed forward,/snatching the pink checkered cloth from
Amber’s stunned grasp.
The once soft pink–and–white fabric was now stained with grimy
Chapter 13
was stitched had even been worn through.
“Who gave you the right to use this as a rag?” My voice shook with fury as I demanded an answer.
Amber jumped in fright. “What’s your problem? It’s just a rag. I grabbed it randomly. Ethan, look at her—”
“Clara,” Ethan cut her off, his voice cold and impatient. “Stop being so unreasonable.”
My hands trembled as I clutched the cloth. “This is the handkerchief I’ve been searching for everywhere. Don’t tell me you didn’t recognize it.”
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Ethan’s gaze finally dropped to the fabric in my hand, and he froze for a moment. “I didn’t pay that much attention. You shouldn’t have left it lying around.”
“How dare you?” I clung to the handkerchief tightly, my eyes stinging with tears. “My mom embroidered this for me, with my name on it. You saw it and even said you wanted to add your name next to mine. How could you not recognize it?”
I turned to Amber, my voice laced with venom. “And you! Ethan Ward might not remember because he doesn’t care about anything, but you out of all the rags you could’ve chosen, you just had to pick the one with my name on it. Don’t tell me that
wasn’t deliberate.”
Amber gasped in feigned innocence. “Oh my, I really didn’t notice. If I’d known it was something your mom left behind, I wouldn’t
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used it as a rag. Actually… I think I might’ve used it as a foot towel
at first…”
I couldn’t hold back any longer. My hand flew across her face with a resounding slap.
“Ah! Ethan!”
Pain shot through my scalp as Amber grabbed my hair, yanking hard. The next thing I knew, I was shoved backward, and the flowerpot I had been holding shattered on the floor.
Ethan stepped over me to cradle a sobbing Amber in his arms. “That murderer of a mom you had–why shouldn’t her belongings be used as rags?”
A deafening roar filled my mind.
One hand clutched the handkerchief tightly, while the other grabbed a sharp shard from the broken flowerpot.
Only one thought remained, “Kill them… Kill them both.”
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Her Night Dance
Chapter 14
