Chapter 3

Ethan pushed Chloe into the back of the Maybach and slid in beside her. The door shut with a heavy thud, sealing them in a world of silence and black leather. The car smelled like him-clean, cold, and expensive. It was the same car where they' d first crossed the line, a memory that now felt like a betrayal.

"Drive," Ethan told Mark, his voice clipped.

The car pulled smoothly away from the curb. Chloe stared out the window, watching the city lights blur past. She could feel Ethan's eyes on her, but she refused to look at him.

"Where were you going?" he asked again, his tone a little less harsh this time.

"Away from you," she said without turning. "Away from my father. Away from everything."

He was silent for a long moment. "Your father called me. He said you were getting married."

"He's selling me, is what he's doing," she corrected him bitterly. "To some rich family on the East Coast."

"So you decided to have a public meltdown and run away?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," she muttered. She finally turned to face him, her eyes flashing. "What's it to you, anyway? You got what you wanted. You have Liam back. Why do you care what I do?"

His expression was unreadable in the dim light of the car. "I don't," he said, but his voice lacked its usual conviction. "I just don't want you causing problems for your family. It's a bad look."

"A bad look?" Chloe laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. "You're worried about appearances? That's rich, coming from you." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Tell me, Ethan. What exactly is your relationship with my new stepbrother?"

His eyes narrowed. "He's the son of your father's new wife. That's all."

"Bullshit," she said flatly. "I saw you with him at the hotel. I saw the pictures in your study. Don't lie to me."

"It's complicated," he said, turning to look out his own window. "It's a debt I have to repay."

"A debt?" she pressed. "What kind of debt involves clandestine meetings and a secret shrine in your apartment?"

He didn't answer. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words and resentment. Chloe felt a familiar ache in her chest. Even now, after everything, a part of her still wanted him to give her a reason, any reason, to believe him.

"I don't want to talk about it," he finally said.

"Fine," Chloe said, leaning back against the seat. "I don't care anyway." She crossed her arms over her chest, creating a physical barrier between them. "Just take me back to my house. I have a wedding to get to."

The words tasted like ash in her mouth.

Ethan directed Mark to drive her back to the Davis estate. The rest of the ride was silent. When they pulled up to the massive iron gates, Chloe got out without a word. She didn't look back.

She expected Ethan to drive away, but he followed her out of the car. "Chloe."

She stopped but didn't turn around.

"There's a gala tomorrow night," he said. "For the launch of the new Sterling-Hayes tech fund. You should be there."

"Why?" she asked, her voice flat. "So you can parade me around as your little project one last time before you ship me off?"

"The Sterlings will be there," he said, ignoring her jab. "It would be a good opportunity for you to meet them before the wedding."

It was a command, not a suggestion. He was still trying to control her, even now. A part of her wanted to scream, to tell him to go to hell. But another, more strategic part of her knew he was right. It was better to know her enemy.

"Fine," she said. "I'll go."

She walked through the gates and up the long driveway, feeling his eyes on her back the entire way.

The next evening, a dress and a box of jewelry arrived from one of Ethan's preferred designers. It was a stunning, backless gown of deep crimson silk. It was a power move, a reminder that he knew her body better than anyone. She put it on, feeling like a soldier arming for battle.

When she arrived at the gala, the ballroom was glittering with the elite of the tech and finance worlds. She spotted Ethan immediately, standing in the center of a circle of powerful men, looking completely in his element. Their eyes met across the room for a brief second before he turned away.

Then she saw him. Liam. He was standing near the grand staircase, looking pale and fragile in a perfectly tailored suit. He was talking to a group of people, smiling his gentle, innocent smile. Chloe felt a surge of nausea.

She was about to head to the bar when Liam saw her. He excused himself from his conversation and walked directly toward her.

"Chloe," he said, his voice as soft as ever. "You look beautiful tonight."

"Cut the crap, Liam," Chloe said, her voice low. "What do you want?"

His smile faltered for a second. "I just wanted to say, I'm sorry if my moving in has made things uncomfortable for you. I know it's a difficult situation."

"Difficult doesn't even begin to cover it," she said.

"I hope we can be friends," he continued, his eyes wide and sincere. "For Ethan's sake. He worries about you."

The mention of Ethan's name was like a needle to her heart. "Ethan doesn't worry about anyone but himself, and you," she corrected.

Liam's expression shifted, a flicker of something cold and sharp in his eyes before it was gone, replaced by his usual mask of fragility. "You misunderstand him," he said softly. "He's been through a lot. We both have."

"Save the sob story," Chloe said, turning to walk away. "I'm not interested."

He reached out and gently touched her arm. "Please, Chloe. Just give him a chance. He really does care about you."

His touch felt like a violation. She pulled her arm away as if she'd been burned. "Don't touch me," she hissed. "And stay the hell away from me."

She walked away, her heart pounding with a mixture of anger and disgust. She knew, with absolute certainty, that everything coming out of Liam's mouth was a carefully constructed lie.