Chapter 2

The hospital corridor smelled of antiseptic and quiet desperation. I clutched the check from Liam, the fifty thousand dollars feeling both like a lifeline and a lead weight. Every sterile tile on the floor seemed to mock me, reflecting the hollow shell I had become.

I stood outside my father' s room, hesitating. Inside, he was a landscape of tubes and wires, his breath a shallow rhythm dictated by a machine. He looked so small in the big hospital bed, a shadow of the strong, loving man who had raised me. Years ago, when my mother died, he was my rock. Now, his own body was betraying him, and I was betraying my soul to save him.

A memory flashed in my mind, sharp and painful. Me, a younger, happier Chloe, standing beside him at the opening of my architecture firm. He was beaming with pride, his arm around my shoulders. "You did it, Chloe," he'd said, his voice thick with emotion. "You build dreams." Now, I was selling myself to pay for the nightmare our lives had become. The contrast was a physical blow, leaving me breathless.

I pushed the door open and walked in. The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor was the only sound. I sat by his bedside, taking his limp hand in mine. It felt cold.

"Dad," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I got the money. I'm going to get you the surgery. You're going to be okay." I was lying to him, to myself.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Dr. Evans walked in, his face grave. He held a clipboard, and he avoided my eyes. That was never a good sign.

"Chloe," he said softly. "We need to talk."

He led me out into the hallway, his expression telling me everything I didn't want to know. "The new tests came back," he started, his voice gentle but firm. "Your father' s condition... it's more aggressive than we thought. The fifty thousand will cover the initial procedure, but his long-term prognosis... it's not good. He'll need continuous, very expensive care afterward. Without it, the surgery will only buy him a few months."

The world tilted on its axis. A few months. The check in my hand suddenly felt worthless. It wasn't a solution, it was just a delay. A stay of execution. The hope that had been a tiny, flickering candle in my chest was instantly snuffed out, plunging me back into darkness.

"What... what do you mean?" I stammered, the words getting stuck in my throat.

"I'm sorry, Chloe," he said, his eyes finally meeting mine, full of pity.

I leaned against the wall, the cold surface a poor substitute for a spine. I felt like I was going to be sick. This was Liam's game. He knew. He must have known this would happen. He gave me just enough rope to hang myself.

As Dr. Evans walked away, a familiar voice called my name. "Chloe?"

I turned to see Emily Chen, my college roommate and the closest thing I had to a sister. Her face was a welcome sight in this sea of despair, but seeing the concern in her eyes just made the tears I was holding back threaten to spill over.

"Emily, what are you doing here?"

"I came as soon as I heard about your dad," she said, wrapping me in a hug that I desperately needed. "Oh, Chloe. I'm so sorry."

I pulled away, wiping at my eyes. "It's worse than you think." I told her everything. About Liam, the fifty thousand dollars, the fake marriage, and the doctor's latest news.

Emily listened, her expression shifting from shock to pure rage. "That bastard," she hissed. "That manipulative, evil bastard."

"I thought it was just because I broke up with him," I said, my voice hollow. "I was young and stupid, privileged. I thought he was punishing me for that."

Emily grabbed my shoulders, her grip tight. "No, Chloe. It's not about that. You have to know the truth. It's so much worse."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, confused.

"Do you remember your final project in architecture school? The one that won you the national award?" she asked, her eyes boring into mine.

"Of course," I said. It was my crowning achievement, the design that was supposed to launch my career.

"And do you remember Liam's startup? The one that was about to go bankrupt right before he suddenly got a massive, anonymous investment?"

I nodded slowly, a sick feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.

"That wasn't an anonymous investment, Chloe," Emily said, her voice shaking with anger. "You didn't win that award because your design was just good. You won because the prize money was huge. You sold the rights to your award-winning design, your future, to an investor for a lump sum. And you funneled that money anonymously into Liam's failing company to save him."

The air left my lungs. The memory was hazy, buried under years of willful ignorance. I had done it, yes. I had loved him then, believed in him. I thought he was a genius who just needed a chance. I never told him it was me. I wanted him to think he had earned it on his own.

"He never knew," I whispered.

"No," Emily said, her voice laced with poison. "He never knew. He thought some rich benefactor saw his genius. And you... you let him believe it. You broke up with him afterward because you couldn't stand the guilt of your secret, and you were exhausted from supporting him. You told him you were 'tired' of him. You let him think you were a heartless, privileged girl who threw him away when he was no longer interesting."

The full weight of it crashed down on me. Liam's entire empire, his immense power, was built on a sacrifice I had made and then buried. His revenge wasn't just cruel, it was based on a complete misunderstanding, a lie I had allowed to fester. He was punishing me for a crime I didn't commit, while being completely ignorant of the gift I had given him. The irony was so profound, so devastating, it felt like my heart was being physically ripped from my chest. I had saved him, and in return, he had destroyed me.