Chapter 2 This is not your home

Cloe stepped into the mansion, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor. The grand hallway stretched out before her, just as she remembered-ornate chandeliers, polished surfaces gleaming under the golden light. But something felt different. All the butlers and maids had stopped in their tracks, staring at her with wide, astonished eyes.

She could feel their gaze on her, and she glanced around, noticing how they held their breath, as if seeing her for the first time. Cloe had changed since she last stood in these halls-taller, more confident, her long, orange hair cascading down her back, glowing against her pearl-white skin. Her green eyes flickered like ocean waves, and her slim figure seemed to command attention without a word. Every smile directed her way was one of admiration, but also hesitation, as if they knew something she didn't.

Before she could take another step, a cold, sharp voice cut through the air.

"So, you finally arrived."

Cloe froze. The voice echoed with an edge of disdain that sent a chill down her spine. Slowly, she turned and saw Elizabeth Taylor standing at the top of the staircase. Her imposing figure was framed by the dim light, but it wasn't Elizabeth that made Cloe's heart stop-it was the woman beside her.

Sofia Roth.

Her childhood enemy. The woman who always seemed to hover around Ethan, like a shadow, always competing for his attention. And now, here she was, standing beside his mother. Cloe's smile faltered, confusion clouding her features.

What was Sofia doing here?

Gathering herself, Cloe smiled and spoke, "Hello, Elizabeth. I'm back home."

The room seemed to hold its breath. All the butlers and maids exchanged uneasy glances, shifting uncomfortably. Something was wrong, and everyone seemed to know it but her.

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed, a mocking smirk curling her lips. "Home? Huh."

The word dripped with venom, and Cloe's chest tightened. She couldn't understand why Elizabeth was behaving this way. Where was the warmth, the welcome she had expected? Why did she feel like an outsider in the very place she called home?

Elizabeth descended the stairs, her heels echoing with each deliberate step. Sofia followed closely, her expression cold and filled with loathing. As they approached, Sofia's eyes flared with anger and-was it fear? Cloe noticed the way Sofia's hands trembled slightly before she clung tightly to Elizabeth's arm. Her knuckles whitened as she squeezed, her nervousness betraying her calm facade.

Sofia was scared. Cloe could feel it, see it in her eyes. The way she glanced at Cloe's figure with a flicker of panic-if Ethan saw her now, there was no way he would give her up. Sofia's lips thinned, her brows creasing with desperation as she held on to Elizabeth for reassurance.

Elizabeth gave Sofia a subtle nod, as if to calm her, before turning her full attention to Cloe. Her gaze was sharp, unforgiving.

"This is not your home, Cloe Williams."

The words slammed into Cloe like a blow, knocking the air from her lungs. She froze, her body stiffening as the weight of the moment settled over her. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked around, helpless, searching for any sign that this was a mistake. The butlers and maids avoided her gaze, their silence suffocating, as if they too were part of this unspoken betrayal.

Cloe's throat tightened as Elizabeth's words echoed in her mind. **Not her home?** Everything felt wrong-this wasn't how she had imagined her return. She felt a hollow pit form in her stomach as she stood there, alone and unwelcome, the life she had dreamed of with Ethan now hanging by a thread.

Her gaze flickered to Sofia, whose lips curled into a slight, triumphant smirk. It was then that Cloe realized-something had changed, and not for the better.