Chapter 12 - ARTHUR'S CONFESSION
Late that night, Arthur walked into Clara's private study at their downtown Manhattan loft, carrying two glasses of wine.
He set one glass beside her black smartphone on the desk, sitting down across from her with a heavy sigh.
"My mother called me six times from her penthouse crying, Clara," Arthur said softly, searching her eyes for mercy.
"Did she apologize for assaulting me or embezzling your trust fund?" Clara asked evenly, without looking up from her laptop.
"No... she blamed you for setting a trap for her," Arthur admitted, taking a long sip of his wine.
"She dug her own grave, Arthur. I simply made sure she couldn't hide the bodies," Clara stated coldly.
Arthur looked down at his wedding ring, turning it slowly around his finger in deep, painful reflection.
"Do you still love me, Clara? Or was our entire marriage just a stepping stone to take my family's power?" he asked softly.
Clara finally looked up, her dark eyes softening just a fraction as she looked at her conflicted husband.
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"I loved you when you were the brave man who stood up to her five years ago, Arthur. I want that man back."
***
