Chapter 2

Ethan' s voice followed me to the door, sharp and dismissive. "Don' t let it hit you on the way out."

I didn' t look back.

The hallway felt miles long.

Once in the elevator, alone, the mask slipped. Tears burned my eyes. My hands trembled.

The doors opened on the ground floor.

Two men in dark suits stepped forward.

"Ms. Miller? Mr. Vance would like to see you."

My father. Of course.

The anger pushed back the tears.

His Manhattan townhouse was opulent, cold. Just like him.

Marcus Vance stood by the oversized fireplace, a drink in his hand. He didn' t turn as I entered.

"Ava." His voice was devoid of warmth.

"Marcus," I replied, matching his tone. I never called him Dad. He hadn' t earned it.

He finally faced me. His eyes, the same shade as Chloe' s, raked over me. Disapproval.

"You' re causing trouble."

"Am I?" I kept my voice even. "Or is Chloe?"

He waved a dismissive hand. "Chloe is sensitive. This wedding is important."

"I' m sure it is."

His abandonment, my mother' s pain, Liam' s suffering – none of it ever mattered to him. Only Chloe. Only Eleanor.

He tried a different tactic. A smile that didn' t reach his eyes.

"Ava, I know I haven' t always been... present."

An understatement.

"But I always cared. In my own way."

Lies.

He walked closer. "Chloe is very happy. Ethan is a good match. A powerful alliance."

He paused, then delivered the real reason for this summons.

"I want you to leave New York. Permanently. Don' t come back. Don' t contact Ethan. Don' t... embarrass Chloe before the wedding."

The words were like a fresh slap.

He wanted to erase me.

"And what' s in it for me?" I asked, my voice tight.

"I' m prepared to be generous. For your silence. For your disappearance."

He thought he could buy me. Just like everything else in his life.

The news of the wedding, spoken so casually, twisted something inside me. Ethan and Chloe. Forever.

Despite the agony, a cold, defiant thought formed.

"How generous?" I asked, my voice dripping with a sarcasm I didn' t entirely feel. "Let' s say... ten million dollars. For my permanent exile."

The door to the living room opened.

Ethan. And Chloe.

They had heard.

Ethan' s eyes narrowed, contempt etched on his face. "Ten million? I knew it. Always about the money with you, Ava."

Chloe rushed to Marcus' s side, feigning concern. "Daddy, what' s going on?"

Then she turned to me, her eyes wide with false sympathy. "Ava, sister, surely you don' t mean that?"

Sister. The word was a mockery.

I laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "Sister? You, the bastard child of a homewrecker? Don' t make me sick."

The air crackled with tension.

Marcus' s face turned purple with rage.

He grabbed a heavy glass award from the mantelpiece – some tribute to his business "achievements."

He threw it.

I tried to duck, but it grazed my arm. Pain shot through it.

"You ungrateful bitch!" he roared.

I clutched my arm, blood seeping through my fingers.

But I wouldn' t break. Not in front of them.

"Truth hurts, doesn' t it, Marcus?" I spat. "You and Eleanor, destroying my mother, abandoning your child."

I straightened, ignoring the throbbing in my arm.

I looked at Ethan one last time. His face was a mask of disgust.

Then I turned and walked out. Dignity my only shield.

Chloe followed me out to the street.

"He' s mine, Ava. I won. Just like my mother won."

Her words. They echoed.

A flashback, sharp and brutal, hit me.

Five years ago. The "personal assistant" job.

It wasn' t just a random rival of the host.

Chloe. Chloe had set it up.

She' d found the ad. She' d known I was desperate for Liam' s $50,000.

She' d contacted that man, the party host. Told him about me. My vulnerability.

She wanted money from him, a finder' s fee. And she wanted to destroy me, my relationship with Ethan.

The assault. The injuries. The doctored police report.

Chloe' s doing. All of it.

Liam... he almost died because of her. Because I couldn' t get the money in time.

The charity, the trial – that was later, after the abyss.

Her cruelty. It was bottomless.

"You know, don' t you?" I whispered, the horror of it all washing over me again.

Chloe' s smile was pure venom. "Know what, dear sister?"

She knew I knew.

She grabbed my injured arm, her nails digging in.

"Let' s go for a little walk," she hissed, dragging me towards a large, ornate fountain at a nearby charity gala entrance we were passing.

Ethan. He was there. At the gala.

He saw us.

Chloe stumbled, pulling me with her.

Then, she screamed and threw herself dramatically into the fountain.

She made it look like I pushed her.

Ethan, already biased, already believing the worst of me, rushed forward.

He didn' t look at me. He didn' t ask.

He pulled a sputtering, "distraught" Chloe from the water.

He cradled her, then turned to me, his eyes blazing.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Ava?" he yelled, his voice echoing in the sudden silence of the onlookers.

Chloe coughed, clinging to him. "She... she attacked me!"

He held her tighter, glaring at me.

Abandoned. Again. Vulnerable.