Clara’s POV
The press conference played on the screen in front of me, Samantha’s steady voice echoing through my study. Her calm facade was convincing enough, but I saw the cracks—the hesitation, the tightness around her eyes, the faint tremor in her hand as she gripped the podium. And then she said it.
“Louis Martinez is the father of my child.”
My lips curled into a slow, triumphant smile. What a pathetic, desperate move. She thought naming Louis would shield her from the whispers, from the judgment. All she’d done was hand me the perfect weapon. And the irony of it? Louis would love the opportunity to strike back at her.
I reached for my phone and dialed. Madame Elena answered almost immediately, her voice smooth and cold. “Clara. I take it you’ve seen the press conference?”
“Oh, I
