Rebirth, Seduce My Ex-husband-Chapter 74: MOTHER WAHALA

Vanessa didn’t move from the doorway. She studied the older woman carefully—Clarice’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. It was the kind of smile that had seen years of rehearsals. The kind of smile that came with an agenda.

"Stacy’s mother," Vanessa repeated slowly. "What brings you here this late?"

Clarice looked past her into the house, uninvited. "My daughter called me hours ago. Said she was treated like trash here. Said she almost lost her baby."

Vanessa’s eyes narrowed. "Your daughter caused a scene. She pushed me into the pool. I didn’t lay a hand on her."

Clarice stepped forward, still not crossing the threshold. "I didn’t come here to argue, Mrs. Quinn. I came to see my daughter."

Vanessa crossed her arms. "She’s at the hospital."

"Oh," Clarice said softly. "And I suppose you sent her there yourself?"

"No," Vanessa replied, voice calm. "Rowen did. Because despite everything, he cares about the child."

Clarice’s gaze sharpened. "And what about Stacy? Does anyone care about her?"

Vanessa held her stare. "She didn’t come here looking for care. She came looking for trouble."

There was a brief silence.

Clarice smirked faintly. "You know, I was warned about you. That you’d be cold. Controlling. But I told Stacy not to judge too fast. Everyone deserves a fair chance."

"And yet you came here assuming I mistreated your daughter," Vanessa said.

Clarice shrugged. "A mother’s instinct."

"Then trust mine," Vanessa replied quietly. "I’m a mother too."

Clarice’s expression faltered for just a second, then returned to composed calm. "Well, I’ll wait for Rowen and Stacy then. I assume this house is still his too?"

Vanessa didn’t answer. She stepped aside silently and let her in. "Wait in the sitting room. Don’t touch anything."

Clarice gave a little huff but walked in with her head held high, scarf neatly folded under her chin like a battle flag.

When Rowen returned an hour later, Vanessa was still sitting quietly in the dining room, a towel wrapped around her shoulders. Clarice was on the living room couch, legs crossed, sipping from a glass vivian had brought her.

The front door opened and Rowen stepped in, tired. Stacy followed behind him slowly, clutching her belly dramatically. She spotted her mother and rushed forward like a child.

"Mama!"

"Oh, my baby," Clarice said, standing to hold her. "What did they do to you here?"

Stacy sniffled loudly, leaning into her mother. "I was humiliated. Pushed. Drenched like some kind of dog. And they didn’t care—"

"That’s not true," Rowen interrupted, voice low but firm. "You pushed Vanessa first. Everyone saw it. Let’s not start lying again."

Clarice turned toward him. "Rowen, I’m not here to argue. I just want to stay a few days. To make sure my daughter and the baby are okay."

"She can stay somewhere else," Rowen said, jaw tight. "This is not a hotel."

But Stacy looked up at him, teary-eyed. "Please, Rowen. Just a week. She won’t bother anyone. I need her around me right now. Please."

Rowen opened his mouth to protest, but Vanessa stood and walked over.

She looked at Clarice. Then Stacy. Then Rowen.

"One week," she said slowly. "She stays in the guest room. And if she causes any problems, even the smallest one—she leaves immediately."

Clarice smiled sweetly. "Thank you, dear. I knew you were reasonable."

Vanessa didn’t smile back. "This isn’t for you."

Clarice just nodded, but her eyes sparkled.

The next few days moved quietly. Clarice stayed in the guest room, always polite, always "helpful." She cooked once or twice—adding too much salt to Vanessa’s portion every time. Claimed it was "by mistake." She complimented Vanessa’s outfits with just the right hint of condescension. Called Tara "Rowen’s little girl" instead of "Vanessa’s daughter."

It was all subtle. Small. Annoying.

But nothing big enough to confront.

Until Day Five.

Clarice was walking with Mariam near the back patio, fake-laughing as she told a story, when Rowen walked by. Clarice sighed dramatically.

"She’s been so cold to me, Rowen," she said suddenly. "I know she doesn’t like me. But insulting me when all I did was come here to support my daughter? That was too much."

Rowen paused. "Insult you how?"

"She said I was a snake. That I came here to spy for Stacy. That I was trying to break your marriage."

Mariam looked shocked. "you?—no, she didn’t— when did vanessa do such a thing"

Rowen frowned, quiet for a moment. "Vanessa wouldn’t say that."

Clarice shook her head, hurt written across her face. "I didn’t want to say anything. But a woman knows when she’s being hated. I just came to help. Now I feel unwelcome."

Just then, Stacy came walking out, holding her side like she was in mild pain. "Mama, are you okay?"

Clarice dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. "I’m fine, baby. I’m just not wanted here."

Stacy gasped softly. "Rowen, can’t you see? She’s being treated badly. She’s here for me, and she’s trying so hard..."

Rowen looked torn. "This is getting out of hand."

Vanessa, who had come out just in time to hear the tail end, walked up calmly.

"What’s going on?"

Clarice didn’t miss a beat. "Just explaining how I’ve been insulted since I got here."

Vanessa’s eyes darkened. "That’s not true and you know it."

Rowen raised a hand. "Let’s not argue. Clarice will stay until the week ends. But I need peace in this house. No more drama."

Clarice gave a tight smile. "Of course."

But as Vanessa turned to go back inside, Clarice watched her—her eyes cool, calculating.

She had planted the seed.

And she had 2 more days to water it.

...

It was the evening before her final day. The sky had dimmed into a soft orange hue. Rowen had just returned from a meeting, exhausted but in good spirits. Vanessa was helping Tara with her reading homework upstairs, and Mariam—his younger sister—was in the kitchen fixing herself some tea.

Clarice was sitting quietly in the living room when she heard Rowen’s footsteps. She rose immediately and moved toward him with purpose.

"Rowen," she began, "I didn’t want to bring this up before, but I think it’s time you knew."

He raised an eyebrow, loosening his tie. "What is it now, Clarice?"

She hesitated like she was holding something back. Then she pulled out a small phone—hers—and opened a photo.

"I found this on Vanessa’s phone earlier this week," she said, showing it to him. "She left it on the counter while I was cleaning. I wasn’t going through it, I swear. It just lit up, and I saw this."

Rowen took the phone slowly and looked. On the screen was a photo of Vanessa sitting beside a man—tall, well-dressed, hand placed a little too comfortably on her knee. They were smiling. Close. Familiar.

Rowen frowned. "Who is this?"

"He works at one of your rival firms," Clarice said softly. "You may have heard of him. Kade Morgan. He’s been at a few of the same events as you. Rumors say he’s been circling your investors."

Rowen stared at the photo. His expression changed—confused, suspicious.

"I don’t know what they’re talking about," Clarice continued. "Maybe it’s just a meeting. But the way he’s touching her... Rowen, you deserve to know if something’s happening behind your back."

He didn’t respond right away. He just stood there, the image burned into his thoughts.

"I just want to protect this family," Clarice whispered. "Even if she doesn’t think I’m part of it."

Then she walked away.

**

Mariam was the first to notice something was wrong. Rowen had gone unusually quiet that night. He barely said a word at dinner and didn’t come upstairs even after Tara fell asleep.

Vanessa found him in his study, lights dim, staring at a glass of untouched whiskey.

"Hey," she said softly. "Everything okay?"

He looked up at her, expression unreadable. "Who is Kade Morgan?"

Vanessa blinked. "Kade? He’s an old friend. We went to university together. Why?"

"Why was his hand on your knee?"

There was a long pause.

"Where did you see that?" she asked slowly.

Rowen didn’t answer. He just stared.

"I ran into him at a brunch about two weeks ago," Vanessa explained. "It was unplanned. We talked. He asked about business stuff. Took that photo, I guess... I didn’t even notice how it looked."

"You didn’t think to mention it to me?" Rowen asked, voice cold.

"Why would I? It meant nothing. We talked for ten minutes."

"It didn’t look like nothing," he muttered.

Vanessa felt heat rise to her face. "So you’re accusing me now?"

"I’m not accusing. I’m asking why your old friend from a rival firm has photos of you looking like a damn couple."

She stepped back. Hurt. Angry. "You’re letting her get to you."

"Who?"

"Clarice," she snapped. "She showed you that photo, didn’t she?"

Rowen stayed silent.

Vanessa laughed bitterly. "She’s been playing you since the moment she walked through that door."

"I don’t know what to believe right now, Vanessa."

Those words hit her harder than she expected.

She turned away, voice shaking. "Then maybe you should figure it out before saying another word to me."

And with that, she walked out.

**

The next morning, Vanessa was gone before anyone else woke. She left Tara with Mariam, left no note, just disappeared. Rowen checked every room three times before calling her number—no answer.

Mariam walked in just as he ended the call.

"She’s not picking up?" she asked.

Rowen shook his head, looking troubled.

Mariam crossed her arms. "What exactly did you say to her last night?"

"It wasn’t what I said. It was what I saw."

"Rowen," Mariam said, stepping forward, "Vanessa’s not stupid. And she’s not a cheat. Whatever you saw, whatever that woman told you—it’s a lie."

"She had a photo, Mariam."

"A photo anyone could’ve taken, anywhere. I was there when Vanessa met Kade. She called me right after it happened."

Rowen’s jaw clenched, "he placed his hands on her knees."

"what? is that why your acting like this? there was like a fly or something and he helped her remove it, the photographer seemed to have taken the picture unaware."

"She’s been holding this family together," Mariam continued. "Meanwhile, you let a stranger, of all people—walk in and tear at it."

Rowen sat down, rubbing his face. "I don’t know what’s happening anymore."

"Well, you better figure it out," Mariam snapped. "Because if Vanessa doesn’t come back... that’s on you."

Just then, Clarice walked in, fully dressed, suitcase in hand.

"I suppose it’s time I took my leave," she said with that same fake warmth. "I did all I could."

Rowen looked at her, something unreadable in his gaze. "Did you?"

Clarice tilted her head. "I only wanted to help."

Mariam rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, "Like a snake in silk."

Clarice heard, but didn’t flinch. She just smiled and walked out.