Chapter 5 Birthday Party Drama
1352 Words
Claire's POV
I took a personal day from work.
At one o'clock sharp, I arrived at the Conrad Hotel for Uncle John's sixtieth birthday celebration. I handed him the gift I'd carefully prepared and offered my polite birthday wishes, trying my best to ignore the tightness in my chest.
My father hadn't arrived yet — good. The thought of seeing him smiling beside that woman made me sick.
I planned to leave quietly after lunch, but Aunt Carter caught my arm just as I was about to slip away.
"Claire, don't go yet. There's another guest coming, someone very important!"
I forced a small smile. "Important? Who could that be?"
"Your Uncle John's friend's son," she said excitedly. "You'll never believe it — he's your company's new CEO! Lucius Watson!"
The glass in my hand nearly slipped.
"What?"
Of all the people in the world… him again.
Before I could recover from the shock, the banquet doors opened and there he was. Lucius, walking in with the confidence of a man who owned every inch of the room.
And beside him — my father's family.
As if fate enjoyed tormenting me, I spotted Ethan too.
My stomach twisted painfully. I wanted nothing more than to disappear. But Aunt Carter, blissfully unaware of the emotional minefield she'd just pushed me into, guided me toward the VIP table.
When I sat down, my pulse nearly stopped.
At the same table sat my father Ryan, his wife Connie Briden, her daughter Emma, Ethan, and Lucius.
The air itself seemed to thicken — heavy, suffocating, electric.
I wasn't sure if Aunt Carter had invited Ethan, still assuming we were together, or if Emma had dragged him along as her latest prize.
Connie sat across from me, elegance dripping from every smug gesture. Her designer gown sparkled under the chandelier.Beside her sat Emma, all curves and cosmetic perfection — thick lashes, pouty lips, an unnaturally sculpted face that screamed of expensive surgery.
And there he was — Ethan himself — sitting right next to her, as if nothing had ever happened. His arm casually resting on the back of her chair, his smirk as self-satisfied as ever.
Funny. Just this morning he'd texted me, claiming he still loved me. Yet here he was, playing the devoted boyfriend in public.
Men truly are artists at hypocrisy.
Lucius sat opposite me, composed and unreadable, his tailored black suit fitting him like armor. He didn't look at anyone. But I could feel the weight of his presence, the quiet command that seemed to ripple from him without a word.
I lowered my head, focusing on the expensive dishes I couldn't afford in another life. The food was exquisite, yet it tasted like ash.
Then my father's voice cut through the conversation, oily and obsequious.
"Oh, Emma," he said, his tone filled with forced warmth. "This is Mr. Lucius Watson. He's the CEO of the Watson Group now. Our company might have the chance to work with his in the future. You should… get acquainted."
Ryan Pierce — my father. The man who'd ruined our family and now sought profit from every connection, including the man who'd once ruined me.
Emma's laugh was sweet and practiced. "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Watson. I hope we'll have the chance to work closely in the future."
She leaned forward, giving him a perfect view of her cleavage.
Lucius didn't flinch. His gaze stayed level. His voice was polite but detached. "Pleasure."
For a fleeting second, his eyes flickered toward me — so quickly I could have imagined it. But the tension that rolled through my chest was real.
Emma didn't seem to notice. "It's too formal to call you 'Mr. Watson.' May I call you Lucius instead?"
Her tone dripped with sugar. I wanted to gag. Ethan looked delighted, like a man who enjoyed being close to power even if it came through his cheating partner's flirting.
Lucius said nothing. His expression didn't change.
"Lucius," Emma persisted, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "Could I have your contact information? Strictly for business, of course."
"You can reach my secretary," he replied flatly.
The rejection hung in the air, sharp and merciless.
For a moment, his gaze slid toward me again. I looked away, my cheeks heating for reasons I didn't understand. Maybe I was imagining the pull — that strange, magnetic awareness that had haunted me since that night.
But before the awkwardness could fade, Connie's shrill voice sliced through the silence.
"Claire, you're being terribly rude. I'm your elder. Aren't you going to greet me?"
The audacity of that woman.
My head snapped up. I met her gaze squarely. "You're not my elder," I said evenly. "You're just the woman who ruined my family."
The table went still.
Lucius's eyes sharpened slightly, though his face remained impassive.
Connie gasped in mock offense and turned to my father. "Ryan, your daughter is out of control!"
My father's face darkened. "Claire, apologize to Connie right now!"
Of course. That was always his line.
No matter what happened, Connie was the victim, and I was the disgrace.
Ethan, ever the opportunist, decided to play moral judge. "Claire, that was uncalled for. You should apologize."
I laughed coldly. "Playing the dutiful future son-in-law already? How sweet."
He sneered. "No wonder our relationship never worked. You don't know when to shut your mouth."
My temper snapped. "It didn't work because you don't know how to keep your pants on — and Emma didn't know how to keep her legs closed."
Gasps rippled through the table. Emma's painted smile vanished.
I stood, my chair scraping sharply against the marble floor. "Tell me, why should I apologize? Because she's older? Because she stole my father, destroyed my mother's life, and expects me to bow to her?"
Connie shot to her feet, trembling with anger. "Ryan! She's humiliating me! Do something!"
My father's hand slammed the table. "Enough!"
Then came the crack.
The slap landed before I even saw it coming.
Pain exploded across my face. The room spun. I staggered, falling to my knees.
Before I could move, a sharp sting burst across my hand — Emma's heel, pressing hard on my fingers.
I looked up, fury burning through the dizziness.
"You know what?" I spat, standing suddenly. "f**k all of you!"
Gasps filled the room.
I grabbed the nearest bowl of soup and hurled it straight at Ryan. The boiling liquid splashed across his suit.
He shouted in rage, but I was already moving. The next plate went flying — food splattering across Connie's chest, followed by another aimed squarely at Emma's designer dress.
The room erupted into chaos.
"Claire, stop it!" Uncle John shouted, rushing to me, but I barely heard him.
Connie was shrieking. Ryan was cursing. Emma was trying to wipe soup off her chest with a napkin that only made it worse.
I turned to my father, chest heaving. "You said you won't have a daughter like me? Good. Because I no longer have a father like you."
The words left my lips like fire. For the first time in my life, I felt no guilt saying them.
Freedom burned where pain used to be.
I walked away, trembling but unbroken.
Lucius's POV
He had remained silent through the entire scene, his gaze never leaving her.
The chaos around the table was just noise. What mattered was her.
The defiance in her eyes. The tremor in her hands. The way she stood her ground despite the pain.
Raven stirred inside him, restless.
She's ours.
Lucius's jaw tightened. No.
She's bleeding, the voice growled. They hurt what's ours.
His knuckles whitened. His wolf was closer to the surface than it had been in years.
But he said nothing. He couldn't— not here, not yet.
As she turned to leave, he caught one last look at her face — flushed, furious, alive.
And the truth settled deep within him.
He could keep denying it, but the bond had already formed.
She was his mate.
Even if she didn't know it yet.
- Writer
