Chapter 4

Chloe wasn't finished. She intentionally raised her voice, making sure her words carried across the space between us.

"Honestly, I feel a little sorry for him," she said to her friends, though her eyes were locked on me. "He's like a lost little puppy. Once you show him a bit of kindness, he follows you everywhere."

Her friends giggled.

"I had to cut him loose," Chloe continued, her voice filled with fake regret. "For his own good, you know? He was becoming obsessed. It was unhealthy. He needs to learn to stand on his own two feet."

She looked at me, her expression a perfect blend of pity and contempt. She was waiting for me to react. She wanted to see the pain in my eyes. She wanted me to get up, to storm over, to cause a scene. She wanted to prove to everyone how pathetic and broken I was without her.

I thought back to a time, two years ago, at a similar event. She had said something just as cruel, and I had crumbled. I remembered the hot shame that had flooded my face, the desperate pleading in my voice as I begged her to stop. I had followed her out of the party, apologizing for a crime I hadn't committed, just to win back her favor. She had let me grovel for an hour before finally sighing and saying, "Fine. But you owe me. That new Cartier bracelet would be a good start to making it up to me."

I had bought it for her the next day.

But tonight was different.

I met her gaze, held it for a long moment, and then I simply looked away. I picked up a small program from the table and started to read it, as if she wasn't even there. I turned my body slightly, closing off my posture to her and her circle of hyenas.

I could feel her anger from across the room. It was a palpable heat. My indifference was a slap in the face, a rejection of the power she thought she held over me. She had lost control of her favorite toy, and it was making her furious.

I heard her say a sharp, "Excuse me," to her friends. I saw her take a step toward my table out of the corner of my eye. Her face was a mask of rage.

But then Liam's hand was on her arm.

"Chloe, honey, let it go," he whined, his voice soft and placating. "He's not worth it. Let's go get a drink."

He was trying to de-escalate, not out of kindness, but out of fear. He knew her temper. He also knew that pushing me too far in a public place filled with my father's associates might not be the wisest move. He had gotten what he wanted-Chloe and the promise of a lavish lifestyle. Now he just wanted to enjoy it without any complications.

Chloe hesitated, torn between her desire to punish me and Liam's gentle pull.

"But he-" she started.

"Please, babe?" Liam said, giving her a little pout. "For me? I just want to have a nice night with my beautiful new wife."

He leaned in and kissed her, a long, showy kiss meant to be both a distraction for her and another jab at me.

It worked. Chloe softened, her anger momentarily forgotten. She allowed him to lead her away from my table and back toward the main crowd.

I watched them go, a strange sense of detachment settling over me. They were a vortex of drama and toxicity, and for the first time, I was on the outside, watching them spin. And I had no desire to be pulled back in.