Chapter 3

The familiar scent of his car-expensive leather and a faint, clean cologne-filled Chloe's senses, bringing with it a flood of unwanted memories. Memories of stolen kisses in this very backseat, of his hands tangled in her hair as the city lights blurred past the windows. She pushed the thoughts away, hardening her expression.

"It's none of your business what I'm doing," she said, her voice sharp. She stared out the window, refusing to look at him. The streetlights painted fleeting stripes of gold across his impassive face.

"When you're running around the city my company is headquartered in, making a public spectacle that could indirectly affect my reputation, it becomes my business," he stated calmly.

Chloe scoffed. "Your reputation? Is that all you care about?" She finally turned to face him, her eyes flashing with anger. "Don't pretend you're here because you're worried about me. You're here because my 'spectacle' might inconvenience you."

He didn't deny it. He just watched her, his gaze intense and unreadable. "You're staying with me until you figure out your next move." It wasn't a question or an offer. It was a command.

"No," she said instantly. "Absolutely not. I'd rather sleep on the street." The thought of being back in his penthouse, the place that was both her heaven and her hell, was unbearable. The place that was now a shrine to Liam Miller.

"Don't be a child, Chloe," he said, his voice laced with impatience. "Your father has cut you off completely. You have nowhere else to go."

"How do you know that?" she asked, a new suspicion taking root. "How did you know where to find me?"

"I have my ways," he said vaguely, turning his attention back to the tablet in his lap. The conversation was over.

Chloe slumped back against the seat, a wave of weariness washing over her. He was right. She had nowhere to go. She was trapped. Again.

The car pulled into the private underground garage of his building. He led her to the elevator, the silence between them heavy and suffocating. As they stepped into the penthouse, Chloe braced herself. She expected to see the shrine to Liam, but the study door was closed. The rest of the penthouse was immaculate, restored to its former glory as if her rampage had never happened. It was almost more insulting that way, as if her pain had been so insignificant it could be wiped away by a cleaning crew.

"You can take the guest room," he said, gesturing down a hallway she'd never been down before. "My housekeeper will bring you anything you need."

He started to walk toward his study, but Chloe couldn't let it go. She had to ask. "Ethan."

He stopped, his back to her.

"Liam Miller," she said, the name feeling like poison on her tongue. "He's my stepbrother. He moved into my house this morning."

Ethan was silent for a long moment. Then, he turned around slowly. There was no surprise on his face, only a flicker of something she couldn't identify. "I'm aware."

"You knew?" she whispered, the feeling of betrayal twisting in her gut. "You knew he was my stepbrother, and you didn't tell me?"

"It wasn't relevant," he said, his voice flat.

"Not relevant?" she cried, her voice rising. "The man you're in love with, the man you abandoned me for, is the son of the woman who destroyed my family! You don't think that's relevant?"

"I am not in love with Liam," he said, his voice dropping to that dangerously quiet tone again. "My relationship with him is complicated. It's a matter of obligation, a debt I owe."

"A debt?" Chloe laughed, a harsh, broken sound. "What kind of debt requires you to build a shrine to him in your study?"

Ethan' s jaw tightened. "You went into my study."

"Yes, I did," she shot back, unafraid. "I saw it all, Ethan. The pictures. The obsession. So don't you dare stand there and lie to my face."

He didn't try to deny it again. He simply stared at her, his expression unyielding. "Stay out of my study. And stay out of my business with Liam. You're here as a guest, nothing more. Remember that."

He turned and walked away, disappearing into the study and closing the door firmly behind him. Chloe was left standing alone in the middle of the vast living room, her anger slowly dissolving into a familiar, aching emptiness.

She retreated to the guest room, a cold, impersonal space that had clearly never been used. She sank onto the edge of the bed, feeling more alone than ever. She hated him for bringing her here, for forcing her back into his orbit. But a small, treacherous part of her was relieved not to be on the street.

The next evening, he forced her to go with him to a tech gala. "You need to be seen," he'd said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You need to show your father and everyone else in this city that being cut off hasn't broken you."

She knew he was right. It was a strategic move, a power play. So she put on the designer dress his housekeeper had laid out for her, a stunning, backless creation of black silk. She let the professional hair and makeup artists he'd summoned do their work, transforming her into a polished, untouchable version of herself.

When she emerged, Ethan was waiting for her in the living room. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, the picture of power and sophistication. His eyes raked over her, a flicker of heat in their depths that he quickly extinguished. "You look acceptable," was all he said.

The gala was a glittering affair, filled with the biggest names in tech and finance. As soon as they walked in, all eyes were on them. Whispers followed them through the crowd. Chloe held her head high, a cool, indifferent smile plastered on her face, playing the part of the defiant prodigy perfectly.

And then she saw them. Across the crowded ballroom, standing next to her father and Elaine, was Liam Miller. He was talking to a group of investors, a charming smile on his face. He looked frail and delicate, but Chloe could see the cunning intelligence in his eyes. He was playing the part of the innocent, newly discovered heir.

As if he could feel her gaze, Liam looked up and their eyes met. He gave her a small, almost imperceptible smirk before turning his attention back to the investors.

Just then, Liam stumbled, clutching his chest and letting out a soft gasp. The charming smile vanished, replaced by a mask of pain.

"Liam!" Elaine cried out, rushing to his side. "Are you alright, darling?"

"I'm fine, Mother," he said, his voice weak. "Just a little dizzy."

The investors looked concerned. Her father fussed over him, his face a picture of paternal worry. It was a perfectly executed performance, designed to garner sympathy and showcase his fragility.

Chloe felt a surge of pure, unadulterated rage. He was a manipulator, a snake. And everyone was falling for it. She watched as he leaned heavily on Elaine, his eyes flickering towards her for a brief second, a glint of triumph in them. He was winning.