The Meeting of Rivals

It was early the next morning when Claire stirred from her restless sleep. Her mind was still clouded by the echoes of yesterday's painful memories. The sharp sound of a knock on her bedroom door pulled her from her thoughts. She sat up in bed, her voice steady despite the tumult within. 

"Come in," she called. 

The door creaked open, and one of the household maids entered with a polite smile. 

"Ma'am Claire, breakfast is served," the maid said softly, her tone respectful yet cautious. 

Claire nodded, her expression unreadable. "You can take your leave. I'll be downstairs soon," she replied, her voice clipped but calm. 

The maid curtsied slightly before exiting the room, leaving Claire alone once again. As she sat on the edge of her bed, her fists clenched involuntarily. The events of the previous day replayed vividly in her mind—Chantel's scornful sneer as she called her a barren woman, Andrew's cold words labeling her his "ex-barren wife," and Sharon's mocking tone when she taunted her as a "barren woman." The words cut deep, each one a dagger to her already fragile heart. 

Claire rose from her bed, her movements deliberate as she crossed the room to the mirror. She stared at her reflection, her eyes filled with simmering anger. "I will make sure you all suffer for calling me barren," she muttered to herself, her voice low but resolute. "You will all pay for making me cry yesterday." 

---

Meanwhile, in the sprawling garden of the Smith estate, Sharon stood amidst the morning blooms, dressed to impress. Her high-waisted black trousers paired with a soft pink blouse gave her the polished appearance of a professional secretary. But behind the façade of calm efficiency was a woman teetering on the edge of panic. She glanced at her watch, noting that it was already 8 a.m. The deadline Jake had given her loomed large in her mind—only 24 hours left before he would start threatening her again. 

Her phone buzzed in her hand, jolting her from her thoughts. She glanced at the screen and froze. Jake's name flashed on the caller ID. Her heart began to race, a mixture of fear and frustration washing over her. She quickly looked around to ensure Andrew was nowhere near before she answered. 

"Why did you take so long to pick up?" Jake's voice barked on the other end of the line. "Were you planning to ignore me?" 

"It's not like that," Sharon replied hurriedly, lowering her voice. "You shouldn't be calling me. I told you I'd call when the money is ready. You know I'm staying with Andrew now. You need to stop calling me like this." 

Jake's laugh was anything but amused. "Do you think I'm joking, Sharon? I told you, you had 42 hours to get me the money, and now it's down to 24. Don't test me." 

"Jake, please," Sharon pleaded, her voice trembling. "You have to give me more time. The amount you're asking for—it's a lot of money. I need time to arrange it." 

Jake's tone turned icy. "It might be a lot for you, but it's nothing for the Smith family. You better figure it out and fast. Don't make me wait." 

The line went dead, leaving Sharon staring at her phone in frustration and fear. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then glanced toward the house. Andrew was coming down the stairs, his sharp suit hinting at his readiness for the busy day ahead. 

Quickly, Sharon adopted a pitiful expression, letting fake tears glisten in her eyes as she sniffled dramatically. 

"Sharon!" Andrew called as he approached her. "We should get going now." 

Sharon turned toward him, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. 

"Are you okay?" Andrew asked, his brow furrowing with concern as he closed the distance between them. 

"It's nothing," Sharon replied, her voice wavering. "We should leave. I'm sure Claire and her lawyer are already waiting for you at the office." 

Andrew wasn't convinced. "Speak to me, Sharon. What's wrong?" 

"I told you, it's nothing," she insisted, sniffling again. "You have a divorce meeting to attend. I don't want to distract you." 

Andrew stepped closer, his tone soft but firm. "Sharon, don't make me angry. Tell me what's bothering you." 

Sharon hesitated, then sighed heavily as if resigning herself to share her "burden." 

"I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want to be a burden," she began, her voice trembling. "But my mom just called. Our house rent is due, and my dad—he had an accident. He needs surgery, but even if I saved my salary for a whole year, it wouldn't be enough." 

Andrew's expression softened immediately. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Maybe you should go see your dad. I can handle the meeting and the divorce on my own." 

"No," Sharon replied quickly, shaking her head. "We worked on this project together. I want to be there. Right now, I just need to figure out how to get the money for my dad's surgery." 

"How much does he need?" Andrew asked without hesitation. 

Sharon wiped her tears, her voice barely above a whisper. "The hospital said it's one million dollars." 

Andrew nodded. "It's fine. I'll have our accountant arrange the money immediately." 

Sharon's eyes widened in surprise. "What?" she exclaimed, her tone a mix of disbelief and feigned gratitude. 

"I'll take care of it," Andrew said firmly. "You don't have to worry." 

Sharon threw her arms around him in an overjoyed embrace. "Thank you so much, Andrew. I don't know what I'd do without you. But...will the money come out of my salary?" 

Andrew smiled slightly. "No, Sharon. I'm helping your family because I care about you. Besides, you'll soon be my wife." 

Hearing those words, Sharon's heart swelled—not with love, but with triumph. She kissed him softly on the lips, a gesture of gratitude that masked her inner glee. 

"Thank you so much," she said, her voice dripping with sincerity. 

"It's fine," Andrew replied. "We should get going now." 

Sharon nodded, quickly composing herself. Together, they left the house, heading toward the office where Claire and her lawyer waited. But while Andrew's thoughts were preoccupied with the upcoming meeting, Sharon's mind raced with calculations and schemes, knowing she had just secured a victory in her quest to manipulate him. 

It was a bright morning when Claire descended the grand staircase of her family's estate, dressed in a sleek black pencil dress paired with silver heels. Her makeup was understated yet elegant, reflecting her calm and composed demeanor. Her mother, seated at the long dining table, was already enjoying breakfast, her posture as regal as ever. The clinking sound of cutlery echoed in the spacious dining room as Claire approached.

"Good morning, Mum," Claire greeted, forcing a polite smile as she took a seat across from her mother. 

Her mother, dressed in an emerald green suit that emphasized her sharp features, raised an eyebrow. "Where are you going, dressed like that?" 

Claire took a sip of the tea that had been placed before her. "Andrew and I will be signing the divorce papers today. I'm heading to his office shortly." 

Her mother's fork paused mid-air as she scrutinized Claire. "You've never been interested in your father's company, Claire. You should be the one representing him in today's meeting, but instead, you're off finalizing your divorce. How typical." 

Claire frowned, setting her teacup down carefully. "Who are you meeting with, Mum?" 

"The Smiths and the Williams family," her mother replied casually, but her words made Claire's heart skip a beat. 

"You mean the meeting is at Andrew's company?" Claire asked, her voice laced with disbelief. 

Her mother nodded, taking another bite of her food. "Yes. If you knew anything about your father's business, you'd understand how buying shares in Andrew's company would give you leverage over him." 

The suggestion lingered in the air, and Claire leaned back in her chair, her mind racing. The idea had merit. She could use it not only to gain control but to disrupt Andrew's plans entirely. 

Her mother's voice cut through her thoughts. "Chantel—" she spat the name with venom, "—is growing far too bold. If your father crosses paths with her again, the family assets could be divided, and I won't allow that. She needs to be handled before it's too late." 

Claire barely responded, her thoughts consumed by the possibilities her mother had raised. 

"And Sharon," her mother continued, her tone darkening, "you need to teach that insolent girl a lesson she'll never forget. Something so severe she'll wish for death itself." 

Claire snapped out of her reverie as her mother tapped her hand sharply. 

"Are you even listening to me?" her mother demanded. 

Claire stood abruptly, smoothing down her dress. "Mum, I need to leave now." She leaned down to give her mother a quick hug before striding toward the door, leaving her mother to wonder what had so thoroughly occupied her daughter's mind.

---

Meanwhile, at Andrew's mansion, Chantel and Andrew were both impeccably dressed and ready for the day. Chantel, in a striking red blazer and skirt set, stood by the mirror, adjusting her earrings. 

"Babe, I need to get going before the meeting starts," she said, grabbing her purse. 

Andrew looked at her, his expression serious. "I want you to be careful with Claire. I'd have come with you, but I've got a few things to handle at the office first. Besides, I don't want her suspecting that we're working together. Let her think you're only there to warn her. If she spills anything, record it like you did last time." 

Chantel smirked, leaning in to kiss him. "Don't worry. I've got this." 

Andrew kissed her back, then watched as she walked out the door, her confidence radiating with every step. 

---

At the Smith Corporation, Sharon sat at her desk, still marveling at her success in convincing Andrew to hand over such a large sum of money. She pulled out her phone and dialed Jake. 

"Yes, tell me," Jake said impatiently as he answered. "Have you got the money?" 

"Almost," Sharon replied, keeping her voice low. "The accountant is arranging it now. After the meeting, we'll meet in the evening, and I'll hand it over in cash." 

Jake grunted in response before ending the call. Sharon let out a sigh of relief and slipped her phone back into her purse. 

Moments later, a sleek black car pulled into the driveway of the company. Claire stepped out gracefully, her heels clicking against the pavement as she approached the building. Her eyes landed on Sharon, who was busy at her desk. 

Sharon glanced up and froze for a moment before a mocking smile spread across her face. "Well, well, look who we have here. The barren soon-to-be ex-wife." 

Claire's jaw tightened, her temper flaring. "I pity you, Sharon. You're a fool if you think Andrew will marry a poor, insignificant girl like you. But let me warn you—take back your words right now. If you don't, you'll regret it. I'll make sure you suffer so much you'll beg for death. And trust me, I'm capable of it." 

Sharon's smile faltered, replaced by a glare. 

Claire smirked. "Why the long face? Did my words hurt? Good. Because soon, your pathetic little family will be on their knees, begging for my mercy. But by then, it'll be far too late." 

Sharon's fists clenched, but before she could respond, Claire's lawyer walked in. 

"Shall we?" he asked, looking between the two women. 

Claire didn't spare Sharon another glance. "Yes. Let's go." 

They walked into Andrew's office, where Andrew and his lawyer were already waiting. Neither Claire nor Andrew acknowledged the other, their faces cold and detached. The meeting proceeded swiftly, and soon, the divorce papers were signed. 

Both lawyers exited, leaving Claire and Andrew alone. Andrew didn't look up from his desk as he said curtly, "What are you still doing here? Leave. I have work to do." 

Claire remained seated, staring at him with icy calm. 

Andrew's patience snapped. "I said get out!" he yelled. 

Claire rose slowly, her voice steady. "Don't worry, I'm leaving. But you'd better warn your mistress to stop insulting me. If she doesn't, she'll regret it for the rest of her life." 

With that, she turned and left his office, slamming the door behind her. 

As she stormed out, she passed Sharon, who was glaring at her from her desk. Their eyes locked briefly before Claire walked out of the building, her anger simmering beneath her composed exterior. 

Unbeknownst to Claire, Chantel's car had pulled into the driveway. Sitting in the back seat, Chantel watched as Claire marched to her car and drove away. 

"What's Claire doing here?" Chantel murmured to herself, her eyes narrowing. "I thought she was done with Andrew." 

Chantel waited for Claire to leave before stepping out of her car and walking into the building. 

At the reception desk, Sharon looked up, recognizing Chantel immediately. 

"How may I help you, ma'am?" Sharon asked, her tone laced with sarcasm. 

"I'm here to see Andrew," Chantel replied firmly. 

"For what?" Sharon asked, folding her arms. 

Chantel gave her a cold stare. "Do I need to explain myself to you?" 

Sharon's tone grew sharper. "Do you have an appointment with him?" 

"No," Chantel admitted, "but tell him Chantel is here to see him." 

Sharon smirked. "I'm sorry, but Andrew only meets with people who have appointments. And I don't see your name on the list." 

Before Chantel could respond, Andrew stepped out of his office. His eyes lit up when he saw her. 

"Chantel!" he called, walking toward her. 

Sharon's jaw tightened, her anger bubbling beneath the surface as she watched their interaction.