Chapter 4

Melody was the first to move. She rushed forward, her face a perfect mask of concern.

"Chloe! Oh my god, are you okay?"

She reached out a hand as if to help me, but her fingertips stopped, hovering just an inch from the sticky, bloody mess on my cheek. She recoiled slightly, a fleeting look of disgust on her face before she hid it again behind her worried expression. Her hypocrisy was so blatant it was almost funny.

I ignored her. I didn't need her fake sympathy.

Just then, a calm, steady presence appeared at my side.

"Miss Chloe."

It was Butler Charles, our family's long-serving and impeccably loyal retainer. He had been with my mother since before she even met David. His loyalty was to Evelyn, and by extension, to me. He held out a clean, white linen napkin.

"Allow me," he said, his voice a quiet rebuke to everyone else in the room.

He gently wiped the worst of the frosting and blood from my face, his movements efficient and respectful. He then offered me his arm, helping me to my feet with a dignity I no longer felt. He draped his own suit jacket over my shoulders, covering my ruined dress.

"I will escort you to your room," he announced, his gaze sweeping over David, Ryan, and Melody with cold disapproval.

No one dared to stop him. Charles, in his quiet way, commanded more authority in that moment than my own father did. He led me out of the ballroom, away from the prying eyes and the wreckage of my birthday.

Once in my suite, Charles drew a bath for me and laid out fresh clothes. After I had washed the last of the cake and humiliation from my hair, I sat on my bed, wrapped in a silk robe. The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind a deep, aching hurt.

I picked up the landline phone on my nightstand. My hands trembled as I dialed the private number for my mother's clinic in Switzerland. It was the middle of the night there, but I didn't care.

She answered on the second ring, her voice groggy with sleep but instantly full of concern.

"Chloe? Darling, what is it? Is everything alright?"

And just like that, the dam broke. The cold resolve I had maintained all night crumbled, and I started to cry.

"Mom," I sobbed, my voice cracking. "They hurt me. Dad... Ryan... they let this girl, Melody... they..."

I couldn't even form the words. I just cried, pouring out all the betrayal and pain over the phone line.

On the other end, I heard my mother's voice change. The sleepiness vanished, replaced by a terrifying, arctic coldness.

"What did they do to you, Chloe? Tell me exactly what happened."

Between sobs, I told her everything. The accusations, the slap, the smashed phone, and the final, deep humiliation of having my face shoved into my own birthday cake while my father did nothing.

There was a dead silence on the line when I finished. It was a heavy, dangerous silence.

"I'm coming home," Evelyn said, her voice flat and devoid of any emotion. It was the voice she used right before she destroyed a competitor in the boardroom. "Pack a bag. Charles will take you to the penthouse apartment. Do not stay in that house tonight. I will be there by morning."

"But Mom, your recovery..." I started, a new wave of guilt washing over me.

"My recovery is over," she cut in sharply. "In fact, it never really began. It was a test, Chloe. A test to see who was loyal. It seems we have our answer."

A test? My mind reeled. The past year of her absence, the worry, the power vacuum... it was all a deliberate strategy.

"Just get to the penthouse," she commanded. "I will handle everything."

She hung up.

I sat there, stunned. The storm was coming. No, the storm was already here. Her name was Evelyn Sterling, and she was on her way back.

An hour later, as I was packing, the phone in my room rang again. It was David.

"Chloe," he said, his voice strained. "Melody is very distraught. She feels terrible about what happened. She and Ryan think it would be best if you came down and apologized to her, so we can put this all behind us."

I almost laughed. The sheer audacity was breathtaking. After everything they had done, they still expected me to be the one to bend.

"Tell Melody," I said, my voice dripping with scorn, "to enjoy her last night in my mother's house."

I hung up the phone, a grim smile on my face. They had no idea what was about to hit them.