Chapter 2

The next morning, I found Chloe again, this time in the library.

Sunlight streamed through the tall windows.

"Chloe," I said, my voice flat, devoid of the hope I'd foolishly expressed yesterday. "You were right about Isabelle."

She looked up from her book, her expression serious.

"I'm not going to pursue Isabelle. Or any of them." My eyes met hers. "I'm choosing you, Chloe. If you'll have me."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Ethan... after what you thought yesterday... this is fast."

"Yesterday I had a suspicion. Last night, I got proof. Ugly proof."

I didn't give her details yet. Just the certainty in my voice.

"I don't want their 'charity' or their twisted obligations. I want something real."

Chloe searched my face. Then, a small, genuine smile touched her lips.

"Yes, Ethan. I'll have you."

A wave of relief, so potent it almost buckled my knees, washed over me.

My resolve hardened.

The Scholars, Leo... they would all be cut off.

Vanderbilt Holdings, my family's legacy, would not be tainted by their deceit.

My father would support this. He had to.

I found Arthur in his study, maps of New York real estate spread across his mahogany desk.

"Dad, I've made my decision. It's Chloe Astor."

He looked up, his expression unreadable for a moment.

"And the Scholars program?"

"It's over," I said. "Isabelle, Leo, all of them. They're not what we thought. They're users, Dad. Deceivers."

I told him then. About Isabelle and Leo. About the overheard conversations. About the lies.

His face, usually so controlled, darkened with a rare fury.

"They will be removed from this house. From our support. Immediately." His voice was cold steel. "You did well, Ethan, uncovering this. We protect our own."

His support was absolute. Family first. Always.

Later that day, I saw Leo lounging by the pool.

He was sketching, a picture of idyllic innocence.

He looked up as I approached, that charming smile fixed on his face.

"Ethan! Come for a swim? Isabelle was just saying..."

"Don't," I cut him off, my voice tight. "Don't even say her name to me."

His smile faltered. "Ethan? What's wrong? Did I do something?" He tried to look confused, concerned.

The act was sickening.

I wanted to hit him. To wipe that manipulative smirk off his face.

Instead, I just stared at him, my disgust clear.

"Your allowance is cut, Leo. Your access to this estate is revoked. You have until tonight to pack your things and leave."

He stood up, dropping his sketchbook. "What? Why? Ethan, this has to be a mistake!"

He reached for my arm, a pleading look in his eyes.

I flinched away, pushing his hand off me. Not hard, just a clear rejection.

Leo stumbled back, his eyes wide.

Then, he let out a yelp, clutching his arm as if I'd broken it.

"My arm! Ethan, you've hurt me!"

He sank to his knees, his face contorted in exaggerated pain.

Instantly, Brianna Chen and Maya Rodriguez, who had been sunbathing nearby, rushed over.

"Leo! What happened?" Brianna cried, glaring at me.

"Ethan, how could you?" Maya accused. "He wouldn't hurt a fly!"

Leo, through crocodile tears, whimpered, "I don't know... he just... he got so angry..."

Isabelle appeared then, walking swiftly from the house.

Her eyes, usually cool, were now chips of ice as she took in the scene.

She knelt beside Leo, her touch gentle on his supposedly injured arm.

She didn't even look at me.

She didn't ask what happened.

She just looked at Leo with that fierce, protective gaze I now knew was reserved only for him.

Then, she helped him to his feet, her arm around his waist, supporting him.

She cast one look at me. Pure, cold disdain.

Then she turned and walked Leo back towards the house, without a single word.

No chance to explain. Not that she would have listened.

I watched them go, a hollow feeling in my chest.

It didn't matter.

They wouldn't believe me. They were too deep in Leo's web, too blinded by Isabelle's manipulations.

My resignation was cold, hard.

Let them think what they wanted. Their opinions meant nothing anymore.

The next day was the annual Hamptons Charity Polo Match.

I was set to play for the Vanderbilt team.

As I was getting ready, Leo appeared in the stables.

He had a small, almost shy smile. His arm was in a pristine white sling, looking very dramatic.

"Ethan," he said softly. "I just wanted to say... I hope you play well. I've always admired your skill on the field. Maybe... maybe you could teach me sometime?"

He was still playing the innocent. The admirer.

It made my skin crawl.

Isabelle was there too. Arthur had tasked her with ensuring my equipment was perfect. She was a skilled equestrian herself.

She fussed over Leo, adjusting his sling, offering him a cool drink.

She barely glanced at my horse, my tack.

Her attention was solely on Leo.

She brought him a chair in the shade, right by the viewing stands, like he was a fragile prince.

She even peeled an orange for him, section by section, feeding him a piece.

The image burned.

I remembered a time, years ago, when I was sick with a terrible flu.

I'd asked Isabelle, who was then just a recent addition to our household, for a glass of water.

She'd looked at me with such disdain. "There are staff for that, Ethan."

My father had overheard. He'd been furious.

He'd made Isabelle stand in the corner of the dining room for an entire evening, like a misbehaving child, just to watch the staff serve us. He told her it was to teach her humility.

Now, here she was, doting on Leo, her supposed brother, like he was the most important person in the world.

The contrast was a fresh stab of pain.

Humiliation washed over me. Hot, sharp.

She was serving him. Willingly. Eagerly.

The pain was profound. It settled deep in my chest, a cold, heavy weight.