Chapter 2

I spent the next hour drifting through the party, a ghost in a designer dress. I sipped champagne I didn't taste and listened to conversations I didn't hear. My mind was a fortress, walled off and secure. I was no longer the girl who lived for Ethan' s approval. That girl died in a fiery crash on a lonely road. This new Chloe, this survivor, felt nothing but a cold, hard resolve.

Ethan didn't like it. I could feel his eyes on me from across the room. He was watching my every move, his brow furrowed in a way that suggested confusion, and beneath that, a simmering anger. He was used to being the center of my universe. My indifference was a challenge to his power, and Ethan Miller did not tolerate challenges.

He decided to escalate.

He led Ava to the center of the makeshift dance floor, his hand possessively on the small of her back. He whispered something in her ear that made her blush and giggle. He was putting on a show, a deliberate performance for an audience of one: me. He wanted me to see how happy he was, how easily he had replaced Sophia, how little I meant.

He even took the diamond necklace from his own neck-a Miller family heirloom I knew he was supposed to give to his future fiancée-and clasped it around Ava's. It was a shocking, impulsive gesture, a public declaration. The crowd murmured. This was more than just a flirtation. He was making a statement.

I just took another sip of champagne and turned my back on them, making a point to engage in a loud, cheerful conversation with an elderly banking magnate about his prize-winning roses.

Ethan couldn't stand it. A few minutes later, he was at my side, his voice a low, threatening growl. "What do you think you're doing?"

Ava trailed nervously behind him, looking uncomfortable with the heavy diamonds hanging on her neck.

"I'm enjoying a party," I said calmly, not looking at him.

"This isn't a game, Chloe," he hissed, grabbing my arm. His grip was tight, painful. "Stop this foolish act."

I finally turned to face him, my eyes hard. "Let go of me, Ethan."

My voice was quiet, but it cut through the noise around us. He was so surprised by my tone that his fingers loosened for a second. That was all I needed. I pulled my arm away.

He looked at the necklace on Ava, then back at me, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "It looks better on her, don't you think? Some things just aren't meant for you."

He was talking about the necklace, but he meant himself. He was reminding me of every time he had rejected me, every time he had told me I wasn't good enough.

I remembered the nights I had cried myself to sleep, clutching a pillow, pretending it was him. I remembered begging him for a scrap of affection, for a kind word, for anything. I remembered him laughing in my face as he brought another Sophia-lookalike into our bedroom. The pain of it all was a scar on my soul, but it was a scar, not an open wound. It no longer had the power to make me bleed.

"You're right," I said, my voice clear and steady. "Some things aren't meant for me. I've simply come to realize my standards are much higher now."

Ethan's face darkened with fury. He had expected me to crumble. He had expected tears. My strength was an insult he couldn't comprehend.

But it was Ava who spoke next. She stepped forward, emboldened by the priceless necklace and Ethan' s attention. Her voice was syrupy sweet, but her eyes were sharp.

"Chloe, you shouldn't be bitter," she said, touching the diamonds at her throat. "Ethan is a wonderful man. You had your chance and you lost it. You should just accept that and try to be happy for him."

I almost laughed. This girl, this copy, was lecturing me? I looked down at her, a genuine, pitying smile on my face.

"Ava, a piece of advice," I said, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "When a man gives you a gift that belongs to his future wife, it doesn't mean he loves you. It means he thinks you're temporary. Enjoy the necklace while you can."

Her face fell. The color drained from her cheeks. She looked at Ethan for reassurance, but he was too busy staring at me, his eyes burning with a new, obsessive fire. He was starting to realize that the Chloe he knew was gone. He was looking at a stranger, and he was furious that he couldn't control her.

I gave them one last, dismissive glance.

Then I turned and walked toward the terrace, leaving them in the middle of the ballroom. I would let them have their little drama. I had a much bigger move to make. My choice was made, and tomorrow, everyone would know it.