Stripping For My Devil Ex Husband

Clara stared back at Julian, her lips pressing into a thin, tight line. The sharp, unyielding authority she usually carried in the office began to crack, replaced by a raw, suffocating wave of fear.

​Slowly, Clara took a step back, shaking her head.

​"No," Clara said, her voice trembling slightly. "I’m not filing any charges."

​The room went completely, terrifyingly still.

​Julian’s eyes widened in sheer shock. Ana blinked, looking at her superior in complete disbelief.

​Damian’s dark brows pulled down into a lethal scowl, his obsidian eyes flashing with a sudden, violent heat. "What did you just say?"

​"I said I can’t do it, Mr. Sterling!"

Clara burst out, her hands trembling as she pressed them against her stomach. She turned to Ana, her eyes glistening with unshed, terrified tears.

"Ana... I am so, so sorry. I know what she did to you. I know what she tried to do to me. But I can’t risk my life like this!"

​"Clara..." Ana whispered softly, reaching out a hand, but Clara stepped back further.

​"I have a career to build!"

Clara choked out, her voice cracking under the weight of her panic.

"I have aging parents who rely on me! Today it’s Vivian Stark... tomorrow it could be another bitter, powerful elite who decides I’m in their way! Angering one high-society heiress almost got me dragged into an alley and killed. Who is going to guarantee my safety when her family retaliates? Who protects my parents if Vivian sends more goons after them?!"

​"I guarantee your safety," Damian growled, his voice dropping into a dangerous, sub-zero register as he slammed his hand against the desk. "You file the complaint, and I erase them."

​"With all due respect, Mr. Sterling... you couldn’t even stop her from putting hands on Ana in your own building!" Clara cried out, terror stripping away every filter she had.

​Before Damian could tear into her, Clara turned on her heel and rushed out of the executive suite.

​"DAMMIT, CLARA! GET BACK IN HERE!" Damian bellowed, his voice echoing off the glass walls like thunder.

​Clara didn’t stop. She shoved the heavy glass doors open and fled down the corridor.

​"Clara, wait!" Ana called out, ignoring the dangerous, suffocating atmosphere in the room. Without a second thought, Ana turned and ran out after her.

​"Anastasia! Stop right there!" Damian’s commanding tone barked behind her, loud enough to stop anyone in their tracks.

​But Ana didn’t listen. She kept running down the carpeted hallway, pursuing Clara toward the private elevators.

​Inside the office, Damian cursed viciously, kicking his leather chair back so hard it crashed into the windows. He paced like a caged predator, his chest heaving, his fists clenched tight enough to turn his knuckles stark white.

​"Calm down, Sterling," Julian spoke up, his tone unnaturally quiet.

​Damian whipped around, his eyes blazing with fury. "Calm down?! She just threw away the cleanest piece of evidence we had to lock Vivian away for attempted murder!"

​Julian stood frozen by the desk, staring at the empty doorway where Clara had just vanished. His own chest felt tight with a bitter, conflicted frustration.

He had viewed Clara Reed as a sharp-tongued, hard-headed, fearless career woman who took crap from no one... least of all high-society elites.

​But in those few frantic seconds, the wall had completely shattered.

​He hadn’t seen a fearless executive. He had seen a terrified, vulnerable woman hiding behind a cold, professional exterior... someone who knew she was just collateral damage in a war between titans.

​"I’m pissed off too, Damian," Julian murmured, his voice heavy with an unfamiliar edge as he adjusted his cuffs. "She ruined the leverage. But... try to look at it from her perspective for five seconds."

​Damian narrowed his eyes into dark slits. "Her perspective?"

​"She doesn’t have a billion-dollar security detail," Julian said softly, looking Damian dead in the eye. "She doesn’t have an empire to shield her family when retaliations start flying. She’s terrified, Damian. And honestly... after what Vivian tried to do to her, she has every right to be."

________________________

Ana caught up to Clara just as the private elevator doors were about to slide shut.

​She slipped her hand between the sensor bars, stepping inside. Clara was pressed against the back wall, her shoulders shaking silently as tears smeared her dark eyeliner.

​"Clara..." Ana murmured softly, stepping toward her.

​"I’m sorry, Ana," Clara sobbed, covering her face with her hands. "I know I look like a coward..."

​"Stop it. You are not a coward," Ana interrupted firmly, wrapping her arms around Clara’s trembling shoulders and pulling her into a tight, grounding embrace. "You have every right to protect yourself and your family. Damian and I... we will find another way to make Vivian pay for her crimes. You don’t owe anyone your safety, Clara. Ever."

​Clara squeezed her eyes shut, holding onto Ana tightly as the elevator descended.

________________________

​When the doors opened at the sub-basement parking garage, Clara wiped her cheeks, stepping out toward her car on shaky legs. She pulled out her keys, but her hands were trembling so badly she dropped them onto the cold concrete.

​As she bent down to retrieve them, a broad hand picked the keys up first.

​Clara flinched, looking up to see Julian standing over her. The usual cocky, teasing smirk he always wore was completely gone.

​"Mr Montgomery..." Clara swallowed hard, trying to rebuild her cold, professional mask. "If you came down here to convince me to go to the police station..."

​"I didn’t," Julian interrupted softly.

​He handed her keys back to her, his sharp eyes searching her pale, exhausted face.

​"Whatever you decide to do, Clara, I’ll support you," Julian said, his baritone uncharacteristically gentle. "You don’t have to put yourself in the crosshairs of people like the Starks just to prove a point to Damian."

​Clara stared at him, caught completely off guard by his sincerity. "Mr Montgomery, I..."

​Before she could finish her sentence, Julian stepped into her space and pulled her firmly into his chest.

​Clara went rigid. Every instinct told her to push him away, to maintain her distance from another high-society elite.

But as his warm arms wrapped securely around her back, shielding her from the cold draft of the garage, the tension in her muscles melted away.

​She gave in, burying her face into the lapel of his expensive suit coat, quietly absorbing the warmth and safety he was offering her.

_________________________

​Meanwhile, Ana made her way back up to the marketing department floor.

​The floor was buzzing with quiet, anxious energy. Employees were huddled in small groups, whispering about the sudden fallout between Mr. Sterling and the Stark family.

​Ana took a deep, steadying breath, stepping toward her assigned desk. She just wanted to bury herself in work... anything to keep her mind off Damian’s terrifying aura, Vivian’s toxic words, and the mountain of lies crushing her from every angle.

​She pulled out her chair and sat down, staring blankly at her computer monitor.

​"Ana."

​A soft, hesitant voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

​Ana turned her head. Marcus was standing beside her partition, his suit jacket unbuttoned, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

He didn’t look angry or distant anymore; his dark eyes were heavy, filled with a painful, desperate urge to communicate.

​He looked around the bustling office floor before turning his gaze back to her face.

​"Can we talk?" Marcus asked, his voice low and laced with an unspoken urgency. "Somewhere private. Please."

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