Chapter 4

Two weeks later, I stood in the middle of a sleek, minimalist penthouse apartment overlooking the city. It was mine, paid for with the first dividend check from my newfound controlling shares in Miller Tech. The place was still mostly empty, but that was the point. It was a blank canvas.

I was hosting a small party, a "new beginning" celebration for myself. Only a few trusted old friends were there, people who had been pushed away during my "lost" three years. The air was filled with light chatter and the clinking of champagne glasses. For the first time since waking up in that hospital, I felt a sense of peace, of control.

The feeling didn't last long.

The chime of the private elevator echoed through the apartment, and the doors slid open to reveal the last two people I wanted to see. Brittany and Liam.

A hush fell over the room.

Brittany glided in, a brilliant, fake smile plastered on her face. "Chloe! We heard you got a new place and just had to come see it! We weren't invited, but I know you wouldn't mind."

She squeezed my arm in a show of sisterly affection that made my skin crawl. "I was so worried when I heard you were moving out on your own. And this engagement to Ethan Reed... it's all so sudden. Are you sure you're okay, getting married to a disabled man like that? People are talking."

Her words were laced with poison, disguised as concern. She was trying to undermine me in front of my friends.

"I've never been better, Brittany," I said, my voice sweet as honey. I gently removed her hand from my arm. "And you're right. You weren't invited. You should leave."

Brittany's eyes widened, and her lower lip began to tremble. "Chloe, why are you being so cruel?"

Liam, who had been standing silently behind her like a dark shadow, stepped forward. He placed himself between me and Brittany, a protective wall.

"Don't talk to her like that," he said, his voice a low growl. His eyes were cold, filled with an accusation that I was the villain, the one hurting his precious, innocent Brittany.

The sight of him defending her, again, sent a fresh wave of cold fury through me. "This is my home, Liam. And you are both trespassing. Get out."

Before the standoff could escalate, the elevator chimed again. This time, it was Marcus Stone who emerged, Liam's father. He was a shark in a tailored suit, with a predatory smile that didn't reach his eyes. He was followed by a small entourage of journalists and photographers he had clearly brought with him.

"Ah, Chloe! A housewarming! How lovely," he boomed, his voice filling the apartment. "A perfect occasion for a little announcement of our own!"

The cameras started flashing, the bright lights blinding me for a second.

Marcus Stone walked directly to Brittany, ignoring me completely. He took her hand and smiled grandly for the cameras.

"The Stone and Miller families have always been competitors," he announced to the room, "but tonight, we are celebrating a future union! A joining of our families and, eventually, our enterprises!"

He then produced a black velvet box. He opened it to reveal a stunning diamond necklace, a piece so extravagant it looked like it belonged in a museum. The crowd gasped.

With a flourish, Marcus Stone fastened the necklace around Brittany's neck. "My son, Liam, has found a wonderful woman in Brittany Hayes. I couldn't be more thrilled to welcome her into the Stone family and to announce their upcoming engagement!"

The cameras went wild, all focused on a blushing, triumphant Brittany and a proud-looking Liam standing beside her. My father, who had apparently known about this and arrived with the Stones, was beaming.

They had turned my party into their engagement announcement. They had done it in my home, in front of my friends, to publicly humiliate me. To show everyone that Liam had chosen Brittany. To put me, the jilted, obsessed woman, in my place once and for all.

I stood there, frozen, as the flashes popped and the reporters shouted questions. I could feel the pitying stares of my friends, the triumphant smirk from Brittany, the cold dismissal from Liam. The humiliation was a physical weight, pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

I could have screamed. I could have cried. I could have made a scene. The old Chloe would have.

But I didn't.

I raised my champagne glass. A slow, cold smile spread across my face.

"Congratulations," I said, my voice clear and steady, cutting through the noise. "You two deserve each other."

Then, I turned my back on the spectacle. I walked through the crowd, my head held high, and didn't stop until I was out on the balcony, the cool night air hitting my face. The rage was a block of ice in my chest, solid and heavy.

They thought they had won. They had no idea that they had just handed me the one thing I needed most: the motivation to burn their world to the ground.