Chapter 5 Chapter 5 Secret.

Margaret's gaze drifted toward the staircase, then snapped back to Charles as a thought struck her. "Darling," she murmured, a silent understanding passing between them.

Charles cleared his throat, his voice carrying up the stairs after Clarice. "Since you're with Mr. Grant now, it's time to return the Moore family heirloom ring."

Clarice's step hitched for only a second at the mention of the Moores. A faint, mocking smile touched her lips, but she didn't turn or slow her ascent.

She and Jordan had been engaged for years-back when her mother was still alive. That heirloom ring had been passed down from old Mr. Moore, meant for his future granddaughter-in-law.

Clarice had always thought Jordan would be her husband. She'd done everything she could to impress the Moore family, hoping to marry him by the time she turned twenty.

Once that day came, she'd finally be able to leave the Sullivan house and start a quiet life with Jordan.

But that day never came.

She wasn't even twenty yet when Charles forced her to marry Theodore in Lydia's place.

What made it worse? Lydia and Jordan had already been together for two years. Charles, Margaret, and even Jordan's parents had known-and allowed it.

If the Grant family hadn't come out of nowhere with a proposal, Clarice might have stayed in the dark forever.

"Mom, what's Clarice's problem?" Lydia snapped, clearly annoyed at being brushed off.

"She's already with Theodore. Why is she still clinging to the Moore heirloom?"

Margaret patted her hand soothingly.

"Exactly, Lydia-like you said. She's with Theodore now. She has no future with the Moores."

"But what if she refuses?" Lydia fretted, her voice dropping. "You know Old Mr. Moore. He only acknowledges the woman wearing that ring."

A slow, calculated smile spread across Margaret's lips as she glanced toward the forbidden upper floor. "Then it's a good thing the sisters will have some time to reconnect today, isn't it?"

Understanding dawned in Lydia's eyes, bright and cruel. Of course. They still had Sophia.

Because of Sophia, Clarice had bowed her head and married Theodore. She was completely at their mercy.

-

She climbed all the way to the top floor-the forbidden level, where Charles permitted no one but himself. The air here was always still and heavy with silence.

Clarice paused outside the door, taking a shaky breath. All the defiance she'd worn like armor downstairs seemed to melt away, leaving only a raw, aching tenderness. When she stepped inside and saw Sophia, her eyes stung.

"Sophia."

A woman sat on the bed, long hair draped over her shoulders, quietly staring out the window.

She turned at the sound of Clarice's voice. And when she saw her, her delicate, pale face lit up with a soft, innocent smile.

Clarice walked in and climbed onto the bed, gently curling up in her arms.

"I missed you, Sophia."

Her eyes welled with tears almost instantly. She blinked hard to hold them back, wiped the corners of her eyes, and looked up again-meeting Sophia's dreamy, trusting gaze.

"Want me to brush your hair?"

Sophia didn't respond, her gaze still lost somewhere beyond the window, but she leaned slightly into Clarice's touch.

Clarice picked up the brush anyway and began running it through her hair.

She didn't know when-or if-she'd ever be able to get Sophia out of here. Or escape Charles's grip herself.

Marrying Theodore, breaking the engagement, giving up the ring.

Clarice didn't even want to imagine what Charles might try to force her to do next.

She had nothing left, but no matter how hard things got, she couldn't leave Sophia behind.

By late afternoon, Clarice left the Sullivan estate, the weight of Sophia's situation still pressing on her. But tonight-tonight was for the race. For the prize money that could change everything.

The underground race was set for midnight-dangerous, chaotic, and full of adrenaline. Definitely not for the faint of heart.

The prize money this time? Insane. Enough to make Clarice absolutely determined to win.

She'd been sneaking out to race for two years now, dancing with danger every time.

Her skills had sharpened, her courage hardened. Sure, she needed the money-but that didn't mean she didn't value her life.

Because if something happened to her-who would take care of Sophia?

----

"Clarice! Try not to wreck my brother's car,"Chloe grinned, leaning out of the driver's window.

Clarice took one look at the vehicle and knew right away-it was custom-built.

The curves, the interior-every detail screamed high-end performance.

"Factory custom," Chloe said proudly. "You won't find another one like it."

Clarice gave her a playful pat on the shoulder.

Same world, different scripts. Chloe had a big brother most girls could only dream of.

"By the way, Clarice-what the hell happened last night? You ditched me!"

Clarice quickly explained that the guy she kissed at the bar wasn't just some random stranger-he was her husband.

Yep. Theodore himself.

Her marriage was a tightly guarded secret.

Aside from her own family, only Chloe knew.

"Theodore?!" Chloe looked like she was about to jump off a cliff. "That was Theodore? Wait-so the rumors about him being... you know... are they true?"

Clarice almost laughed. If she only knew what he was like in bed.

"Seriously, with a body like that? No way. Unless. wait, don't tell me he's gay? Have you guys done it yet? How's his technique?"

Chloe's questions spilled out nonstop. Clarice was about to tell her to shut up when a voice called from behind.

"Claire!" Leo Grant swaggered into view, the onetime racing king dethroned by her.

"You lose tonight, you run ten laps around City Square.Naked."

Laughter rippled through the crowd.

Leo wasn't here for the prize money. He just wanted to humiliate her.

"Deal!" Clarice snapped back without hesitation.

She wore a tight black leather jumpsuit that hugged her curves perfectly.

She looked sharp, sleek-and absolutely fearless.

"But if you lose, Leo, you run twenty laps. Same place. Same rules. Ten a.m. Naked," she said, smiling sweetly.

He wanted a show? Let's see if he could deliver.

"You-" Leo's face darkened, jaw clenching.

"Worry about your own underwear, Leo," Clarice said, yanking the car door open and sliding inside.

Chloe jumped into the passenger side beside her.

On the track, no one used real names.

Clarice was Claire.

Chloe was Coco.