The Billionaire’s Unexpected Proposal (Evelyn and Derek)

After Eric's phone call with Derek and Evelyn in the garage, he stood there, staring into space with a cold knot in his chest as he wondered how Claire was going to feel about Sandra being arrested. Ever since the last meeting at Evelyn's place, Claire had been a shadow of herself, and she hardly said a word or smiled anymore.

She was always staring into the distance, and he knew all of this was affecting her more than she was letting on.

As much as he knew that this was the right course of action to take, he was worried about the effect all of this would have on Claire and their marriage.

Eric sighed deeply as he returned to the bedroom to join Claire, who was already in bed. As he climbed back into bed, Claire shifted beside him and turned to face him, her eyes wide and worried in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. "Is Evelyn okay?" she asked softly, her voice laced with a tremor of anxiety.

Eric forced a reassuring smile, though his eyes betrayed his own unease. "Yes, everything is fine. They are handling it. You don't need to worry..."

"How can you ask me not to worry? If the situation was reversed, and it was Evelyn doing all that Sandra's been doing, wouldn't you be worried? Wouldn't you be anxious every moment?" Claire asked, her brow creased with frustration as she sat up to face him.

Eric sighed, reaching over to touch her hand, but she pulled away, folding her arms tightly across her chest. "I understand, Claire. I really do."

"No, you don't. Don't say you do when you don't." Her voice was firm and edged with anger that stung.

"Claire..."

"No one understands how I feel, Eric. You can't possibly understand how I feel about this as a mother," Her gaze dropped to the comforter as she took a shaky breath. "Maybe it's best we just... go to sleep. There's nothing left to say," she said, and without waiting for him to say anything, she lay back on her side and turned her back to him.

Eric hesitated, watching her for a moment before relenting. He knew her well enough to know she was done talking. He wished there was something he could do, but he didn't know what or how.

He flicked off the light at his side of the bed, plunging the room into darkness. He felt the bed shift as Claire rolled further away from him. He lay still, listening to the rise and fall of her breathing until he felt it even out, signaling she was asleep- or so he thought. After several minutes, he fell asleep, and immediately, Claire slipped out from under the covers quietly.

She walked stealthily across the room and slipped out the door, closing it softly behind her as she made her way to Sandra's bedroom.

No matter what the situation was, Sandra was her daughter, and

she owed it to herself and to Sandra to try to rescue her from herself.

Down the hall, Sandra paced around her room, unable to go to sleep because she was still too anxious about what had happened earlier. She was also anxious to hear from the hitman about Evelyn. She needed to put an end to everything once and for all.

When she heard the soft sound of footsteps outside her door, followed by a soft knock, she quickly jumped onto the bed and closed her eyes, pulling the covers up around her shoulders.

When there was no response, the door creaked open, and Claire stepped inside, her silhouette framed in the faint light from the hallway which she had turned on.

She made her way over to the bed, her movements careful, as if she didn't want to wake her daughter. Sitting on the edge, she gently brushed a few strands of hair away from Sandra's face, tucking them behind her ear.

She gazed down, a single tear slipping down her cheek, landing softly on Sandra's arm.

Sandra's eyes fluttered open, feigning drowsiness. But when she saw her mother's face streaked with silent tears, she sat up, alarmed. "Mom? What's wrong?"

Claire's lips parted, but for a moment, no words came. She swallowed, her voice a fragile whisper. "Sandra... you're breaking my heart. Again and again. My heart... it's shattered."

"Me? What are you talking about? What did I do?" She asked in confusion, wondering if perhaps her mother knew about what she had done.

"Evelyn told me about your conversation. You told her the reason you hated her..."

Sandra's face contorted with a scowl. "Is that why you're here?

Because of Evelyn?" She scoffed, her tone sharp. "You're crying over her? In the middle of the night?"

Claire's shoulders slumped as she looked away, the pain in her gaze deepening. "It's not just about Evelyn, Sandra. It's about you. The things you've said, the way you've behaved... it's tearing me apart."

Sandra's expression twisted with bitterness. "So you're here to take her side, then, as usual. You are always siding with Evelyn.

What kind of a mother are you? Why can't you be like other stepmoms?"

Claire shook her head slowly, struggling to maintain her composure. "Sandra, you're wrong. I'm here because I care about you more than you can understand. But this... this hatred you have

- its consuming you. It's not Evelyn's fault."Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

Sandra glared at her, crossing her arms defiantly. "Then it is your fault. Why don't you ever take my side? Can't you see that I'm doing all of this for us? I want us to have a better life. I want to be the one Dad is proud of. I want to inherit the family magazine. But you-" Her voice cracked, and she forced herself to stay composed. "You don't seem to care. You re content with whatever scraps you're given. Why aren't you ambitious? Why don't you want more?"

Claire looked at her daughter, her eyes filling with sadness. "Do you even remember your father? I mean, your biological father?"

Sandra blinked, taken aback. "Why are you bringing that up?" She asked with a scowl.

"Because""" Claire replied, her voice barely a whisper, "I see so much of him in you. The ambition, the need to win at all costs... the greed." She paused, her hand trembling as she placed it on Sandra's shoulder. "I don't want you to end up like him. You seem to be headed there already."

Before Sandra could respond, her phone rang, the glow from the screen casting shadows on her face. Claire's eyes darted to the phone, and before Sandra could grab it, Claire snatched it up.

"Mom! Give it back!" Sandra lunged at her, desperation flaring in her eyes. She couldn't let her mother take the call or find out what she was up to.

But Claire held the phone firmly, her knuckles white as Sandra's fingers clutched her wrist, trying to wrench it free. The moment she grabbed the phone, Sandra shoved her mother harder than she intended.

Claire stumbled backward, her eyes widening in surprise as she lost her balance. With a sickening thud, her head hit the floor.

Time seemed to stop.

Sandra froze, her gaze locked on her mother's still form. Blood trickled from a small gash on Claire's temple, pooling on the carpet; shock and horror twisted Sandra's features. Then, as reality set in, she let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Eric, startled awake by the piercing cry, threw off the covers and got off the bed. He raced down the hallway when he didn't see Claire on the bed.

As he reached Sandra's bedroom, the sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks: Claire lay on the floor, her face pale and motionless, a dark red stain spreading beneath her head.

"Sandra""" he choked out, his voice barely audible. "What... what did you do?"

Sandra stumbled back, her hands shaking, eyes wide with terror as she babbled incoherently. Eric pushed past her, dropping to his knees beside Claire, and pressed his fingers urgently against her neck. Relief flooded him as he found a faint, steady pulse. "Honey, hold on," he murmured, his voice cracking. He fumbled for his phone, dialing emergency services, his hands shaking as he relayed their address.

His gaze drifted to Sandra, who stood frozen, watching him with wide, tear-filled eyes as paramedics arrived and carefully lifted Claire onto a stretcher.

As they wheeled her away, Sandra's legs gave out beneath her, and she sank to the floor, Evelyn forgotten as silent tears streamed down her face.

Eric turned to her, his own face a mixture of anguish and anger, struggling to understand what had just happened.

But all Sandra could do was stare, numb with shock and disbelief, as the weight of her actions bore down on her, suffocating her under its relentless grip.