Chapter 242 You want a divorce?
Ethan’s POV
The staff were already gathering in the hallway, drawn by the commotion. I could see their shocked faces, their barely concealed interest in the drama unfolding.
This was exactly what we didn’t need right now.
"Everyone out," I ordered sharply. "Now."
The maids scattered immediately, but Grandmother remained perfectly still, her expression icy as she regarded Clara with barely concealed disgust.
She didn’t say another word—just gave me one last meaningful look and swept out of the room with her head held high.
The moment the door closed behind her, Clara lunged at me.
I caught her wrists before she could actually hit me, pulling her thrashing form against my chest and half-dragging her down the hall toward our bedroom.
She fought me the entire way, sobbing and screaming accusations I couldn’t even process.
"Let go of me! Let GO—"
I kicked the bedroom door shut behind us and finally released her.
Clara stumbled backward, her chest heaving as she stared at me with wild, desperate eyes.
"She’s your grandmother," I said, my voice coming out harsher than I’d intended.
"You can’t attack her like that, Clara. Do you understand what you almost did?My father is in the hospital recovering. Do you want to send her there too by causing this kind of scene?"
The words were cruel, but they needed to be said.
Clara’s face crumpled. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, and for a moment she looked so utterly broken that I felt something twist painfully in my chest.
I turned away to grab the tissue box from the nightstand, trying to gather myself. When I handed it to her, I made sure my voice was gentler.
"Here. Clean yourself up."
She took the tissues with shaking hands, but instead of using them, she grabbed my wrist.
"Please," she whispered. "Ethan, please. I’m begging you. Don’t do this. Don’t leave me. I love you so much. You know I do."
"I’ve already lost everything," Clara continued, her grip tightening until her nails bit into my skin. "My reputation, my standing in the pack, any chance of a normal life—I gave it all up for you. For *us*. I can’t... I don’t have anywhere else to go."
"Clara..."
"If you divorce me now, what do I have left?" Her voice cracked. "Nothing. I’ll have nothing."
Goddess, I was so tired. Tired of lying, tired of hurting people, tired of making impossible choices.
But this wasn’t impossible, was it?
The foundation could save us. Could give me a real shot at getting everything back. And all it would cost was...
"The pack needs that foundation money," I said quietly, unable to meet her eyes. "We’re barely hanging on as it is. Without it..."
I didn’t finish the sentence. I couldn’t.
Clara went very still. When she spoke again, her voice was cold—so cold it barely sounded like her.
"Is it really about the money?" she asked. "Or is this about Aria?"
The name hit me like a slap.
She saw the answer in my face before I could school my expression. Of course she did. Clara had always been able to read me better than anyone.
"You want both, don’t you?" Her laugh was hollow, broken. "The foundation *and* her. That’s what this is really about."
"Clara—"
"Just say it," she spat. "Stop pretending you care about the pack’s financial situation. Stop lying to my face. If you’re going to throw me away, at least have the decency to admit why."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to tell her she was wrong, that this was purely about survival, about doing what was best for Silver Creek.
But the words died in my throat.
Because she was right. On some level, she was absolutely right.
If Aria had said yes when I’d begged her to come back... if she’d given me even the slightest indication that she still cared... would I be having this conversation at all?
"I’m sorry," I finally managed. The words felt like ash on my tongue.
Clara’s face twisted with pain. "That’s it? That’s all you have to say to me?"
"I’ll take care of you," I said, desperation creeping into my voice. "Whatever you need—money, a house, anything—"
"*Compensation?*" She stared at me like I’d struck her. "You think you can just pay me off like I’m some kind of—"
"That’s not what I meant—"
"Yes it is." Her voice had gone flat, emotionless. "That’s exactly what you meant."
The fight seemed to drain out of her all at once. She sank down onto the edge of the bed, staring at nothing.
"Is this my punishment?" she whispered. "Is this karma catching up to me?"
I didn’t know how to answer that.
My wolf was howling now—a mournful sound that made my chest ache. *You’ve destroyed everything. Your mate. Your pack. Even this.*
"They say the harder you try to hold onto something, the faster it slips through your fingers," Clara continued, almost to herself. "I should have known. I should have..."
She looked up at me then, and I barely recognized the hollow emptiness in her eyes.
"You’re going to divorce me," she said. It wasn’t a question. "For the money. For her. Maybe for both."
"Clara—"
"Just tell me one thing." Her voice was steady now, cold and clear. "When you came to me all those years ago, when you marked me instead of her—did you ever really love me? Or was I always just... convenient?"
The question hung in the air between us.
And Goddess help me, I didn’t know how to answer.
Because the truth was, I’d loved what Clara represented. The choice I’d made freely instead of having destiny dictate my life. The rebellion against the Moon Goddess’s plans.
But True Mates weren’t about choice. They were about inevitability.
And I’d spent years trying to outrun mine.
"I loved you," I said finally. "I did. I—"
"Past tense," Clara noted with a bitter smile. "How fitting."
She stood up, smoothing down her robe with hands that had finally stopped shaking. When she looked at me again, something in her expression had shifted—hardened.
"Fine," she said quietly. "You want a divorce? I’ll give you one."
Relief and guilt warred in my chest. "Clara—"
"But don’t you dare pretend this is just about the foundation," she cut me off. "Don’t insult me by acting like this is some noble sacrifice for the pack. You’re choosing Aria. You’ve *been* choosing Aria since the moment she walked back into your life."
She moved toward the door, then paused with her hand on the handle.
"I hope she’s worth it, Ethan," Clara said softly. "I hope she’s worth everything you’re throwing away. Because once I’m gone... once you lose Marcus and me... you won’t get us back."
The door clicked shut behind her.
I stood there in the empty room, my wolf’s anguished cries echoing in my mind, and wondered when exactly I’d become the kind of man who destroyed everything he touched.
The worst part?
I’d gambled everything on a woman who wasn’t mine to keep. I’d rejected my True Mate for someone who’d never really belonged to me at all.
And now I had nothing.
Nothing except a billion-dollar foundation that felt like blood money.
And the crushing weight of knowing I had no one to blame but myself.