Chapter 4

Chloe POV:

The locks on the guest room door remained stubbornly fastened. Jace, in his desperate attempt to control me, had only fueled my resolve. I ignored the lilies, ignored the silent plea for understanding they represented. His actions had spoken louder than any floral arrangement.

I began to pack, tossing my clothes into a single suitcase with a cold detachment. Each item felt like a remnant of a life I no longer recognized. My engagement ring, a massive diamond that had once symbolized forever, lay on the dresser. I stared at it, then with a flick of my wrist, swept it into a small velvet pouch, not for sentimental value, but as a legal asset.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for something more personal, something that truly belonged to me. That' s when the realization hit me like a physical blow.

My grandfather' s watch.

The singular, priceless timepiece, intricately engraved with our family crest, a symbol of generations of Donovans, wasn't in its usual spot in the bedside drawer. I tore through the room, my calm veneer cracking. It wasn't just a watch; it was a tangible piece of my heritage, my identity.

My heart hammered against my ribs. There was only one person who would dare touch it.

I stormed out of the guest room, the lock clicking open with a surprising ease-perhaps Jace had merely intended to give me time to cool down, not to imprison me. The penthouse was quiet, eerily so. I could hear soft humming from the living room.

I walked in, my eyes immediately drawn to Brenna. She was draped across my chaise lounge, a smug smile playing on her lips. And on her slender wrist, glinting under the chandelier, was my grandfather' s watch.

It looked ridiculous on her, too large, too significant for her delicate frame, a cheap imitation on a priceless heirloom.

"That's my grandfather's watch," I stated, my voice dangerously low.

Brenna looked up, her hum fading. Her eyes, wide and innocent, met mine. "Oh, this? Jace said it was just an old thing. He said it would look lovely on me. A little good luck charm for the baby."

Her words were a poison, dripping with malice. An old thing? A good luck charm? Jace had given her my family's legacy. My blood began to boil.

"Give it back," I commanded, my hand outstretched.

Brenna merely clutched it tighter. "But Jace gave it to me! He said it was a gift."

"He had no right," I seethed, taking a step closer. "That watch has been in my family for over a hundred years. It is priceless. It belongs to the Donovans."

Just then, Jace entered the living room, a bewildered look on his face. "What's going on here?"

Brenna immediately burst into tears, shrinking back into the chaise lounge. "She's trying to take my baby's good luck charm, Jace! You gave it to me!"

Jace looked at the watch, then at me, a flicker of something almost like guilt in his eyes. Almost.

"Chloe, it's just a watch," he said, trying to sound reasonable. "Brenna likes it. Let her keep it for a while."

" 'Just a watch' ?" I repeated, my voice rising. "This is not 'just' anything, Jace. This is my family. My legacy. You have no right to give it away."

"I said, give it back, Brenna," Jace said, his tone firmer, probably sensing the rising tide of my fury.

Brenna, however, had a different plan. With a theatrical sob, she ripped the watch off her wrist. "Fine! If you're going to be so possessive, take your stupid watch!"

And with a deliberate, sickening crunch, she slammed it onto the marble coffee table. The delicate mechanism shattered, gears and springs scattering across the polished surface like fallen stars. The grandfather's watch, a symbol of generations, lay in pieces.

A guttural cry escaped me, a sound I didn't recognize. It wasn't just the watch she had broken; it was the last tether to my past, to the woman I once was.

My vision blurred, a red haze descending. Without thinking, without a single thought beyond pure, unadulterated rage, I lunged at Brenna. My hand connected with her cheek, a sharp, resounding slap.

"You bitch!" I screamed, my voice raw.

Jace, with a roar of his own, suddenly intervened. He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my bicep, and with a violent shove, he flung me away from Brenna.

I stumbled, hitting the edge of the marble table, a searing pain shooting up my side. I crumpled to the floor, my head hitting the hard surface with a sickening thud. The world swam for a moment, stars exploding behind my eyes.

The pain in my side was excruciating, a hot, throbbing ache. But the pain in my heart was far worse. He had put his hands on me. He had shoved me for her.

"Don't you ever lay a hand on her!" Jace bellowed, standing over me, his face contorted with fury. "Get out, Chloe! Get out of my sight!"

I pushed myself up slowly, every muscle screaming in protest. My head throbbed, and a metallic taste filled my mouth. I looked at Jace, then at Brenna, who was now being comforted by him, her fake tears flowing freely.

My eyes, however, were dry. The last drops of sorrow had evaporated, replaced by a cold, hard resolve.

"You just signed your own death warrant, Jace Malone," I said, my voice barely a whisper, yet it cut through the air like ice. "Consider this marriage, and everything we had, officially over."

I pointed a trembling finger at him, my voice gaining strength with each word. "And I promise you, with every fiber of my being, you will regret this. Bloody revenge, Jace. You brought this on yourself."

My gaze hardened, locking onto his. There was no going back. Only forward.