Chapter 11: Clara's Web
The morning air in Tony's office felt unusually tense. His team moved around quietly, sensing his mood even before he walked in. For the past few days, Tony had barely slept—caught between anger, fear, and the deep ache of losing Lina bit by bit.
He tried to focus on the files in front of him, but every line blurred. His mind kept replaying the image of Daniel's car at Lina's gate. The way she stepped out. The soft look on her face. The kind of tired smile that used to be meant for him.
He rubbed his forehead, overwhelmed.
Just then, his secretary knocked gently.
"Sir… there's someone here to see you."
"Tell them I'm not available," Tony said without looking up.
"She insisted," the secretary said nervously. "She's… already in the lobby."
Tony finally looked up. "Who?"
A familiar perfume drifted into the air before the secretary could answer.
Clara stepped in.
Wearing a fitted dress, a calculated smile, and the kind of confidence only a woman with dangerous intentions carried.
Tony's jaw clenched.
"Clara. What do you want?"
She closed the door behind her, her heels clicking softly against the tiled floor as she walked in. "Relax," she said with a small laugh. "I'm not here to fight."
He stood slowly, arms crossed. "Then leave. Because nothing you say will change anything."
"Oh, stop pretending you're not curious." She waved a hand dismissively. "I came to talk."
"I don't want to talk to you."
"But you need to," she replied, her tone shifting. She reached into her bag and pulled out a brown envelope, placing it on his desk with a deliberate tap.
Tony stared at it. "What is that?"
"Open it."
He hesitated, then reluctantly slid out the contents.
His blood ran cold.
Photos spilled onto the desk—pictures of him and Lina.
At the park.
Leaving the café.
Her entering his car.
Even one of them standing outside her gate late in the evening.
Tony's breath caught. These were not normal angles. They were taken from distance—hidden, blurry, invasive.
"What is this?" he demanded.
Clara smiled thinly. "Proof."
"Proof of what?" he snapped.
"That you're being followed."
Tony threw the photos back on the desk. "If this is another one of your pathetic games, I'm not playing."
Clara raised her hands in mock innocence. "Believe it or not, Tony… this time, it's not me."
He glared. "And why should I believe a single word you say?"
She stepped closer, her expression shifting into something cold and dangerous.
"Because," she whispered, "I'm not the only one who wants to destroy you."
Tony stared at her, heartbeat pounding.
Her eyes weren't mocking now. They weren't loving. They weren't jealous.
They were serious.
Deeply serious.
He tried to steady his breathing. "Who took these pictures, Clara? And why do you have them?"
"I have connections. You know that." She smiled slightly, but the smile never reached her eyes. "Someone contacted me. They thought I'd be interested. And… they were right."
Tony gritted his teeth. "Clara, if this is your way of sneaking back into my life—"
She cut him off sharply. "Tony, use your brain for once. If I wanted to break you two up, I already did! These…" she pointed at the photos, "are not from me. Someone else is watching you. Watching her."
Tony froze.
Every muscle in his body went rigid.
Clara's voice dropped lower. "And they're not doing it for love. They're doing it to ruin you."
He swallowed hard. "Why?"
"Think," she said impatiently. "You didn't leave your last job quietly. Someone held a grudge. Someone still does."
His heart pounded.
His ex-boss.
The same man who was with Clara at the park.
Clara leaned against his desk, folding her arms. "I didn't realize it at first. But when I saw him at the park… trailing behind me… watching you. Watching her." A flicker of discomfort crossed her eyes. "Something wasn't right."
Tony's mind raced.
"You expect me to believe you're helping me now?" he asked, voice low.
Clara took a deep breath. "Believe me or don't. But the truth is simple: if someone is following you and Lina… things are going to get worse."
He exhaled shakily. "What do they want?"
Her tone turned cold. "They want to ruin your reputation. They want to see you lose everything. And they want to use Lina to do it."
Tony's stomach twisted.
Images flashed in his mind—Lina walking alone after work, Lina laughing at his jokes, Lina sleeping peacefully on his couch, Lina crying the night he left.
He couldn't breathe.
Clara tilted her head. "So, are you still sure you want to push her away? Because whoever is behind this… they're counting on your arrogance to make their job easier."
Tony's eyes narrowed. "Why warn me at all?"
A strange expression crossed her face—hurt, regret, something softer than before.
"Because I once cared," she said quietly. "And because… she doesn't deserve what's coming."
Tony flinched.
Clara stepped back, grabbing her purse. "Protect her, Tony. Before someone else decides she's the perfect weapon to break you."
She headed for the door, but paused and glanced over her shoulder, her eyes sharp.
"You think the picture of her being dropped home by another man hurt you?" she smirked. "Wait until you see what the person behind those photos wants you to believe next."
Then she walked out, leaving Tony in stunned silence.
For a long time, he didn't move.
His hands trembled as he gathered the photos again, staring at Lina's unaware smile captured from afar. She had no idea she was being watched. No idea she was caught in the crossfire of his past.
He sank into his chair, chest heavy.
Someone is targeting me.
Through her.
And she already thinks I'm lying.
He pressed a hand to his eyes, trying to breathe.
He wanted to protect her.
But how could he do that…
When she barely wanted to talk to him?
When she didn't trust him?
When Daniel was getting closer and closer to her?
His phone vibrated.
For a wild second, he hoped it was Lina.
But it wasn't.
It was an unknown number.
When he opened the message, his heart stopped.
A new photo.
Taken that same evening.
Daniel's car.
Lina stepping out.
Her smiling faintly.
And a caption under it:
"Losing her already?"
Tony's blood went cold.
Clara was right.
Someone else was playing this game.
And the stakes were higher than he ever imagined.