The Promise He Never Remembered Chapter 08

The Promise He Never Remembered Chapter 08

## Ethan Carter’s POV

Chloe stepped over in her high heels and sat down beside me, putting a hand on my arm, her voice soft and trying to please:

“Mr. Carter, don’t be like this. So a few clients left. We signed so many contracts before—that’s enough to last a long time. What are you afraid of?”

She leaned in, and her strong perfume made me dizzy.

I was about to speak when my phone buzzed. A familiar name appeared on the screen—Mr. Peterson, who’d worked with us for three years. I quickly answered. Before I could say anything, a shout came from the other end:

“Ethan Carter, did you fire Clara?”

I was shocked and quickly explained: “I didn’t fire her. She quit—”

“I don’t care whether you fired her or she left on her own!” Mr. Peterson’s voice yelled like thunder. “Ethan Carter, I’m telling you, the only reason I signed that contract with you was because Clara was the go-between. Now that she’s gone, there’s no point in continuing. The contract is terminated. You figure it out yourself!”

“Mr. Peterson, Mr. Peterson, let me explain—”

Click. He hung up.

My hand holding the phone began to shake.

Before I could recover, another call came in.

“Mr. Carter, this is Lewis. We’ve decided not to proceed with that previous project. I’ll pay the penalty as the contract says. That’s it.”

“Mr. Lewis, is there some misunderstanding—”

Click. Hung up.

A third. A fourth. A fifth.

Every call said the same thing—cooperation over, contract gone. The reason was always the same: because Clara was gone.

I sat on the sofa. The phone slipped from my hand and fell onto the carpet with a dull thud.

Chloe was still talking beside me: “Mr. Carter, don’t worry. Those few small clients are gone, but we still have—”

“Shut up.” My voice was rough, nothing like my own.

I bent down, picked up the phone, and with shaking fingers scrolled to the number labeled “Clara Bennett” and dialed it.

“The number you have dialed is currently busy—”

I tried again.

“The number you have dialed is currently busy—”

I called three more times, each with the same tone. She’d blocked me. Clara had blocked me.

I whipped my head toward Chloe, almost shouting: “Give me your phone!”

Shocked by my look, Chloe pulled back, hiding her phone behind her:

“Mr. Carter, why do you need my phone?”

“Give it to me!”

Hesitating, she handed it over, but muttered: “Mr. Carter, is it really necessary? It’s just Clara leaving. Anything she can do, I can do. What’s so great about her…”

Slap—

My hand moved faster than my brain. The sharp sound of the slap echoed in the empty banquet hall.

Chloe covered her face, tears streaming down instantly. She stared at me with wide eyes, her lips shaking, unable to speak.

“Who do you think you are?” My voice was cold as ice. “You’re just a toy in the bedroom, a decoration to show off. Do you think you can ever compare to Clara?”

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Tears fell drop by drop.

I didn’t look at her again. I picked up her phone and quickly dialed the number I knew by heart.

Beep… beep… beep…

It connected.

“Hello?” Clara’s voice came through, calm as still water.

“Clara, it’s me.” I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “I need to talk to you. Let me explain—”

“Ethan Carter.” She cut me off, her voice flat and empty. “Start a video call. I have something to show you.”

The video invitation came through. I accepted.

The moment the screen lit up, I froze.

Clara was wearing a dark green evening gown, her long hair falling over her shoulders, her makeup perfect, like a completely different person. She stood under a huge crystal chandelier, behind her a breathtaking banquet hall. And beside her—stood a group of men.

All in tailored suits, young, handsome, distinguished. Some faces even looked familiar—as if I’d seen them on the covers of Forbes and Business Insider.

“Is that… Eli Hale of Hale Industries?” My voice sounded hollow, far away. “And the one next to him… Cooper Westbrook of Westbrook Realty?”

I knew them. Those men were well-known young business owners in the state. Any one of them was worth at least as much as me.

Clara tilted her head slightly and smiled at the camera. That smile wasn’t for me—it was for the people around her. Assured, calm, bright in a way I had never seen on her face.

“Ethan Carter, listen carefully.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but every word was clear, sharp as a blade. “We have had no marital contact for five years. The court has approved our divorce. The divorce agreement is clear: I want no property, and the child belongs solely to me.”

She paused, her eyes cutting through the screen and landing on my face, as if looking at a stranger:

“For five years, I held this marriage together. Five years. That’s enough. Now, I want to find a responsible father for my child. So, from today on, please stop bothering me.”

Then she ended the video.

The screen went dark, showing my own face—pale, messy, like a fish thrown ashore, gasping for air.

My hand holding the phone shook.

No. This isn’t right. That’s not how the story goes. Clara isn’t supposed to be like this.

She’s supposed to be the little assistant who is afraid of me in the office, the wife who waits for me at home until late at night, the woman who can’t live without me.

But she left. Not only did she leave, but she’s doing better than me, a million times better.

I stood up suddenly, threw the phone to the ground, and it shattered into pieces. Chloe screamed in fear and pulled back into the corner of the sofa, not daring to move.

“I won’t agree to this.” I stared at the broken screen on the floor, my voice seeming to come through my teeth. “Clara, you think you can just leave? Not that easy.”

I lifted my head, my eyes burning with a crazy need I didn’t even recognize:

“Even if you leave, the child stays! That’s my son, a Carter! You’re not taking him away alone!”