Chapter 14
Ethan hurriedly pocketed his phone and carried Lana back to the ward.
“I just stepped out for a smoke. I didn’t go far. Don’t be afraid.”
Lana curled lazily against him, arms locked tight around his neck.
By the time he coaxed her back to sleep, it was deep night.
He didn’t call Claire.
He’d let Fenton humiliate her—he’d just give her another five million later.
That night, Lana slept relentlessly.
She’d been frightened, too, and kept jolting awake from nightmares
in which Ethan left her.
Each time she woke, she clutched his hand.
He didn’t sleep either.
At dawn, he finally dozed—only to wake and find Lana scrolling through his phone.
When he opened his eyes, she pouted.
“Ethan Vance, why do you still have that woman’s number?”
“Humph. I won’t allow you to contact her again. I’m deleting it.”
She deleted Claire’s number, then cleared the call logs for good measure.
Ethan’s gaze dimmed.
“Lana Reed, who said you could mess with my phone?”
“Have I spoiled you too much?”
Even he was shocked by his own words as they fell.
Lana stared at him in disbelief—then tears rolled hot and fast.
Her mouth opened—no sound came.
Guilt pricked him.
He didn’t know what had come over him—a flash of temper and the words were out.
He felt like he was coming apart.
Those erased messages—gone forever.
All their history—from meeting to loving—
deleted.
The thought hollowed him out.
Lana was still crying.
Usually, he’d be soothing her within five seconds.
This time, he didn’t.
He just held the phone and stared into space—maybe thinking of Claire.
The more Lana looked, the angrier she got.
She snatched the phone and smashed it to the floor.
The screen shattered.
“Ethan Vance, are you thinking of that woman?”
“Can’t you bear to let her go?”
“If you can’t, why choose me?”
He stayed silent.
She rushed him, pounding his chest with her fists.
After a beat of stillness, he shot to his feet and looked at her, ice‑cold.
“Lana Reed, how long are you going to keep this up?”
“You’re pregnant. The doctor said you can’t get over‑excited.
You need to learn to control yourself.”
The man before her felt like a stranger.
He’d always indulged her—always soothed and pampered her.
This was unexpected—and it made her even angrier.
She lifted her hand and slapped him hard.
“Ethan Vance, you liar. When we got married you swore you’d never fault my temper or my pride.”
“You said I could be unreasonable—that you’d let me make a scene as much as I wanted…”
“Now you’ve changed. You’ve fallen out of love!”
He watched her cry, face unreadable.
“You’re pregnant. Mind your manners.”
“Start thinking about how to be a good mother.”
“I don’t want our child born with your temper.”
He picked up his phone and turned for the door.
“I’m going to the office. I’ll check on you later.”
By the time the words reached Lana’s ears, he was gone.
She collapsed onto the floor, wailing.
When the sobs didn’t soothe her, she tore the room apart—even wrecked equipment worth millions.
Doctors and nurses balked at her door.
Ethan had his assistant handle the mess.
He himself didn’t return.
…
Ethan switched to a new phone—with nothing of Claire on it.
She slipped out of his life quietly—and lodged in his mind without a sound.
Lately, he kept thinking of her—the ordinary, warm days they’d shared.
Memory tugged his mouth into an involuntary smile—but memory didn’t obey, and the next reel always played:
Lana bullying Claire, again and again.
First time, in the hospital—Lana cornered her and beat her.
Second, the accusation that Claire had doctored the prenatal medicine—and the beating and expulsion from the villa.
Third, the necklace—her father’s ashes tossed into the pool—again and again she fetched it, again and again it was thrown—until the hourglass shattered and the ashes were gone.
Fourth, the kidnapping—and he had used her as a human shield.
He couldn’t forget the way she’d looked at him, at the end—despair, pleading, and maybe deep regret and hate.
Back then, he’d stood firmly in Lana’s shoes—and felt nothing wrong.
If Lana needed to vent, let her vent.
Otherwise, she would quarrel with him forever.
But from Claire’s side—the pain was suffocating.
How innocent she had been—and how he had indulged Lana’s endless revenge.
Even in life‑and‑death, he had chosen Lana.
Claire must have felt utter despair.
And he had brought it on her.
She’d been just an ordinary woman—
until she saved him and married him—and paid for it all.
Maybe—he had been wrong.
For the first time, Ethan felt like an unqualified bastard.
He’d hurt her too deeply.
He should apologize—compensate her—and say a proper goodbye.
Then they could truly cut clean.
