Chapter 143: Chapter 143 They wanted to set up an accident for Aria
Author’s POV
Margaret’s eyes stayed fixed on the rest of the envelope’s contents, her stomach sinking.
Not just the marriage certificate—Marcus’s birth certificate, DNA results, medical records. All of it laid bare, undeniable.
Clara had been meticulous, gathering evidence for years, and now she was using it.
"She’s actually doing this," Margaret whispered. "She’s going to blow it all open."
"Everyone OUT!" Gerald roared at the staff. Once they were alone, he grabbed a heavy walking stick, raising it above Ethan’s head.
"No, Gerald—" Margaret threw herself in front of her son.
Ethan closed his eyes, not moving to protect himself. He knew he deserved this.
Rose caught Gerald’s arm, still reeling. "Stop! Someone explain this to me—now!"
The stick clattered to the floor. Gerald’s chest heaved. "Explain. To your grandmother."
Ethan exhaled, an odd relief beneath his fear. "Grandmother, it’s true. Clara and I are legally married. Marcus is my son."
His voice was flat, exhausted. "Everyone agreed to keep it quiet until the Pack’s expansion was finished. Clara wasn’t willing to wait."
Rose sank into a chair, looking every one of her seventy-plus years. "All this time, and no one told me." Her gaze swept from Gerald to Margaret, betrayal and bewilderment warring on her face. "How long have you known?"
Neither answered. "This is a catastrophe," she said, pressing a hand to her chest. "How do we even begin to deal with this?"
Gerald’s phone rang—unknown number. He answered anyway.
Clara’s voice poured through, sweet as honey. "Hello, Dad. I assume you’ve seen the documents."
"You manipulative bitch—" Margaret lunged for the phone. "We had an agreement! You will never be welcome here after this!"
"That’s fine, Mom. I know my place."
Something in her calm made Gerald’s blood run cold. "What do you want? We agreed you’d wait."
"I’ve waited long enough. I want to be with my husband, openly, now." A pause. "If you’d all accept that, I’d be a devoted wife—help Ethan lead the Pack, support the family..."
Rose stared at Ethan with weary, wounded resignation. Margaret looked ready to explode.
"But if you make things difficult," Clara continued, voice hardening, "we’ll have to handle this another way."
"You’re threatening us?" Margaret snapped.
"I’ve given Ethan my best years, my devotion, stayed quiet just as you asked. I’m done waiting for a convenient time that never comes. Marcus is a Holt. I want that acknowledged."
She wasn’t wrong, and they all knew it.
"You could have given this more time," Gerald said tightly. "We had an arrangement."
"Arrangements change, Dad. If you force us to keep hiding, I’ll protect my marriage my own way."
"What does that mean?" Ethan cut in, voice rough.
"You know what it means. If we can’t find a solution, we all sink together. If I go public on my own terms—with everything done to me and to Aria—it won’t just be the family’s reputation that suffers."
The threat was clear: full exposure would destroy Silver Creek’s credibility, their expansion, Ethan’s leadership—everything.
"You’re blackmailing your own family," Gerald said flatly.
"If that’s how you see it. Goodbye, then—"
"Wait." His hand tightened on the phone. He couldn’t gamble with the Pack’s future. "Where are you? Let’s discuss this properly."
"Outside your front gate. But Mom made it clear I’m not welcome, so I was leaving."
Margaret flushed with impotent rage. Gerald shot her a warning look.
Rose rose slowly, leaning on her cane, still absorbing what she’d learned. She struck it against the floor in frustration before leaving—she needed a moment before facing that woman.
"Clara, don’t be difficult," Ethan said. "I’m coming to get you."
Margaret grabbed his arm; he gently pried her fingers away, looking at his father apologetically. Gerald wouldn’t meet his eyes.
Minutes later, Ethan returned with Clara. She removed her cap, hair falling around her shoulders, chin lifted as she stepped into the foyer.
"Shameless," Margaret muttered, turning away.
Clara’s chest tightened, but she held her composure.
Ethan took her hand, worried she might lose control—he hadn’t expected her to send the documents to everyone at once, hadn’t anticipated her forcing the timeline like this.
For the first time, he felt genuine wariness toward her. Had her patience been real, or had she simply been waiting for maximum leverage?
"Let’s talk," Gerald said wearily, heading to his study.
The conversation was brutal. Clara’s ongoing defamation case against Aria meant she still couldn’t appear publicly.
Gerald demanded a contract: no further exposure before the Pack’s official expansion, or she’d forfeit all assets, Marcus’s custody, and face massive penalties.
Clara added her own clause—once the expansion was complete, the marriage must be fully and publicly acknowledged, no more delays. Gerald agreed, needing to control her.
He insisted she live in the main house, not with Ethan—his excuse being that Ethan was still nominally married to Aria.
Clara didn’t object; Marcus was already moving to the main house, and staff could help with childcare.
That evening, Clara moved in. Gerald gave her the master bedroom across from Margaret’s, making clear she’d share it with Ethan.
Margaret nearly broke down. Unable to reach Gerald, who’d locked himself in his study, she fled to Rose’s room.
"This is unbearable! I can’t live like this!"
"Then what do you suggest?" Rose was propped up in bed, having just taken her heart medication, expression still raw.
"We can’t undo what’s done. And I would have appreciated knowing about my own great-grandson before tonight."
"I know," Margaret said, guilt flickering before hardening again. "It was Gerald’s call—to protect the Pack until things were secure. Doesn’t matter now. She’s forced our hand."
Rose closed her eyes, pain lancing through her chest.
She fingered the copy of the will in her nightstand. Would her husband’s legacy be destroyed by all this—the secrets, the years she’d been kept in the dark?
"What worries me more is what comes next," she said quietly.
"We can’t lie to Aria forever. She and Ethan have no legal marriage—how can they divorce? And if they don’t, how do we handle Clara’s demands?"
Margaret’s expression turned calculating. "Aria can’t make waves. Worst case..." She lowered her voice. "If divorce isn’t possible, there’s always widowhood."
The implication was clear. Lure Aria back. Once the Pack was secure, arrange an accident. After enough time, Clara and Ethan could go public without complication.
Aria would just be collateral damage.
Rose said nothing—her silence was answer enough. It was the only solution she could see. She lifted her teacup with trembling hands, staring into the amber liquid as if it held answers.
Outside, the moon rose full and cold over the Holt estate, casting everything in silver light that looked almost like frost.
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