Chapter 3

A week later, Liam came back from a business trip to Chicago. He walked into my room carrying a gift bag from a high-end jewelry store.

"I missed you," he said, handing me the bag. He tried to kiss me, but I turned my head so his lips landed on my cheek.

I opened the bag. Inside was a ridiculously expensive diamond necklace. A guilt offering. A bauble to keep the wife happy and quiet.

"It' s beautiful, Liam. Thank you," I said, my voice flat. I put it on the dresser without a second look.

His smile faltered. "Don' t you want to try it on?"

"Later. I have a headache."

We had dinner in tense silence. I could feel him watching me, trying to figure out the change in me. He thought I was still grieving. He had no idea.

After dinner, I initiated the conversation he never expected.

"Liam," I said, looking him directly in the eye. "I want to adopt Leo."

He froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. He stared at me, his mask of concern replaced by genuine shock.

"What?"

"I' ve been thinking about it a lot," I continued, my voice steady and calm. I had rehearsed this. "I can' t have children of my own. You know that. And I love Leo. He deserves a stable home, a mother and a father. It makes sense. We can give him everything."

I was offering him exactly what he and Maya wanted: for Leo to be the official heir. But I was offering it on my terms, making it my idea. It was a move he couldn't refuse without revealing his hand.

He was visibly thrown, searching for the trap. "Chloe... are you sure? It' s a big step."

"I' ve never been more sure," I said firmly. "He will be our son. The heir to this family."

A slow smile spread across his face. He thought he had won. He thought my grief had finally made me pliable, that I was handing him his victory on a silver platter.

"That' s... that' s wonderful, Chloe," he said, reaching across the table to take my hand. "You have such a big heart."

I let him hold my hand, my skin crawling at his touch.

That night, when he followed me to the bedroom, I stopped him at the door.

"I' m not feeling well, Liam," I said, clutching my stomach for effect. "The doctor said I need to rest. Alone. Maybe you could sleep in the guest room for a while? Just until I' m stronger."

It was the perfect excuse. He couldn' t argue without looking like an insensitive brute. He hesitated, clearly frustrated, but finally nodded.

"Of course, Chloe. Whatever you need."

Watching him walk down the hall to the east wing, to the room far from mine, was the first real taste of victory. I locked my door and leaned against it, breathing freely for the first time in weeks.

The next day, my best friend, Jessica, arrived. I had called her in a panic, telling her I needed her. Jessica wasn' t just a friend; she was a private investigator, a damn good one. I trusted her with my life.

We sat in my locked room, and I told her everything. The overheard conversation, the locket, my suspicions about Ryan and my miscarriage.

Her face grew grimmer with every word. When I finished, she didn' t offer empty comforts. She just nodded, her jaw tight.

"Okay, Chloe. Give me a week."

She was true to her word. A week later, she returned with a slim file folder. She looked pale.

"You should sit down for this," she said.

She laid out the truth, piece by painstaking piece. Flight manifests confirmed Ryan was never on that crashed plane. He' d used a fake passport to fly to a private island in the Caribbean. Financial records showed a series of large, untraceable transfers from a shell corporation controlled by Liam' s family to an account in Maya' s name.

And then came the worst part.

"Your miscarriage," Jessica said, her voice gentle. "I spoke to a source at the clinic. The fertility specialist you were seeing, Dr. Alistair. He lost his license a few years ago for unethical practices. The medication he prescribed you, the one he said would 'strengthen your womb' ... it' s a drug known to induce miscarriages in high doses, especially during the first trimester."

The file folder in my lap felt impossibly heavy.

"Liam' s family bailed out the clinic a month before you started your treatment there," Jessica added quietly. "They essentially own it."

He didn' t just let my baby die. He orchestrated it.

He murdered Hope.

A sound escaped my throat, a raw, animal noise of pure agony. The room started to spin. All the pain I had been bottling up, all the grief I had performed, came rushing back as a tidal wave of reality. Liam hadn't just sacrificed my happiness for his brother; he had sacrificed my child. He killed our baby to prevent a legitimate heir from complicating Leo' s claim.

My marriage wasn' t just a lie. It was a crime scene.

Tears streamed down my face, hot and useless. I crumpled the report in my fist, the paper crinkling under the force of my rage.

"I' m going to kill him," I choked out.

"No, you' re not," Jessica said, her voice firm. She grabbed my shoulders. "You' re going to destroy him. There' s a difference. We can go to the police right now."

I shook my head, a sudden, chilling clarity cutting through the pain.

"No. The police won' t be enough. His family is too powerful. They' ll bury it. They' ll paint me as a hysterical, grieving wife."

I stood up, wiping the tears from my face with the back of my hand. The grief was still there, a hot coal in my chest, but it was now fuel.

"They want Leo to be the heir?" I said, my voice cold and hard. "They want to protect the family' s reputation? Fine. I' ll give them exactly what they want, right before I take it all away."

"What are you going to do?" Jessica asked, looking worried.

"I' m not running away," I declared. "I' m not going to be a victim. I' m staying right here. I' m going to host a party. A big one. The biggest this family has ever seen. And I' m going to give everyone a show they will never, ever forget."