Chapter 2

The confirmation hit Chloe with the force of a physical blow. Olivia, her mousy, perpetually "ill" stepsister, was Liam' s cherished white moonlight. The pieces clicked into place with horrifying clarity. The way her stepmother always subtly praised Olivia while undermining Chloe. The "coincidental" times Olivia would have a medical scare right when Chloe and Liam had important plans. It was all a calculated, vicious campaign.

"You knew," Chloe whispered, her voice trembling with a rage so deep it made her sick. She looked from her stepmother' s falsely sympathetic face to Olivia' s smug one. "You both knew all along."

Her father shifted uncomfortably. "Chloe, this isn' t the time. We' re celebrating your smart decision."

"My smart decision?" Chloe' s voice rose, sharp and cracking. "You' re selling me like livestock to a dying man to secure a business deal, and you call it a smart decision?"

"Watch your tone," her father warned, his face darkening. "Nathan' s family is offering you a future. Something Liam clearly has no intention of doing. You should be grateful."

"Grateful?" She laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "Grateful that my entire life has been a lie? That the woman you brought into our home has been working with you to manipulate me and ruin any chance of happiness I might have had?"

Olivia descended the stairs slowly, her hand on the railing as if for support. "Chloe, I don' t know what you' re talking about. Liam and I are just friends. He feels responsible for me, that' s all. You' re being hysterical."

"Don' t you dare talk to me," Chloe snarled, taking a step toward her. "I saw the locket. I' ve seen the way he looks at you. And I see the look on your face right now. You won."

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed past them, heading for the door.

"Where do you think you' re going?" her father shouted. "Your things are still upstairs!"

"Keep them," Chloe shot back without looking back. "I don' t want anything from this house. Or from any of you. Ever again."

She slammed the door behind her and didn' t stop walking until the suffocating grandeur of the family mansion was out of sight. Freedom felt terrifying and exhilarating. The first thing she did was walk into the most expensive boutique on the block. She pulled out the personal credit card Liam had given her, the one with no limit, the one she had barely ever used.

She bought everything. A new wardrobe, filled with bold colors and sharp silhouettes, a stark contrast to the elegant but subdued clothes Liam preferred her to wear. She bought shoes with dangerously high heels and purses that cost more than a car. It was reckless, a frantic attempt to buy back a piece of herself, to erase the last three years with a mountain of shopping bags. She booked the presidential suite at a five-star hotel, ordering room service and drinking champagne alone, trying to fill the echoing void inside her.

The next morning, the void was still there, now accompanied by a pounding headache. She tried to order breakfast, but the hotel phone line was dead. A moment later, a sharp knock came at her door. It was the hotel manager, his face pale and apologetic.

"Miss Chloe, I' m so sorry, but there seems to be a problem with your card," he said, avoiding her eyes. "It' s been declined."

Chloe frowned. "That' s impossible. Try it again."

"We have, miss. Multiple times. It' s been frozen. All of your cards have."

The blood drained from her face. Liam. Or her father. It didn' t matter who. The message was clear. She was cut off. The life of luxury she had taken for granted, the safety net of wealth, was gone. She was truly on her own. The mountain of shopping bags in the corner of the room suddenly looked pathetic.

She packed one small bag with her new, defiant clothes and left the hotel, leaving the rest behind. The reality of her situation crashed down on her. She had no money, no home, and no one to call. As she walked aimlessly down the street, the city lights that once seemed so glamorous now felt harsh and menacing.

Two large men in cheap suits stepped out of an alley, blocking her path. She recognized them instantly. They were collectors her father sometimes used for his shadier business dealings.

"Miss Chloe," the first one said, his smile unpleasant. "Your father is very worried about you. He sent us to bring you home."

"I' m not going back," Chloe said, her voice shaking but firm. She tried to step around them, but they moved to block her again.

"We' re not asking," the second man said, reaching for her arm.

Chloe flinched, her heart pounding against her ribs. This was it. This was the consequence of her defiance. She was going to be dragged back to that house, forced into a loveless marriage, and trapped forever.

Just as the man' s fingers brushed her sleeve, a sleek black car screeched to a halt beside them. The back door flew open, and Liam stepped out. His face was a thundercloud, his eyes blazing with an intensity that made the two thugs take an involuntary step back.

"Get away from her," Liam' s voice was a low growl, more dangerous than any shout.

The men exchanged a nervous glance. They knew who Liam was. Everyone knew.

"Mr. Sterling," the first one stammered. "We' re just following Mr. Dubois' s orders."

"I don' t care what your orders are," Liam said, moving to stand in front of Chloe, shielding her with his body. "Leave. Now."

The men didn' t need to be told a third time. They practically scrambled over each other to get away.

Chloe stood frozen, a whirlwind of emotions warring inside her. Relief, anger, humiliation. He had saved her, but he was also the source of all her pain.

Liam turned to face her. His eyes raked over her, taking in her new, defiant clothes, the single bag she carried. The fury in his expression was replaced by a cold, cutting disapproval.

"What the hell do you think you' re doing, Chloe?" he demanded, his voice laced with ice. "Running away? Maxing out my credit cards? Did you really think that was a solution?"

His words were not a question. They were an accusation. He wasn' t asking because he was concerned. He was asking because she had disobeyed him, broken the rules of their carefully managed world. He wasn' t her savior. He was her owner, and she was his runaway possession.