Chapter 1

I drove to my father's mansion, my hands tight on the steering wheel. The divorce papers sat on the passenger seat, a silent testament to five years of a broken marriage. I had to tell him. Even though he had been a stranger since Mom died, he was still my father. I felt like he deserved to know.

As I approached the study, I heard voices from inside. My stepmother's voice, sharp and pleased.

"Mr. Hayes, your plan was brilliant. Tricking David Hayes with a spiked drink, luring Chloe there, and forcing them to marry ensured Miller Corp. fell into David' s hands. Now, you' re having Samantha Green seduce David again, and with them together, Miller Corp. will be completely ours."

The world stopped. I couldn't breathe. Mr. Hayes? David's father? My father's voice, soft and low, followed.

"It was tough on you and Samantha, me being away so long to marry into the Miller family. But that stubborn girl' s mother, she held onto Miller Corp. even to her death, rather than give it to me!"

I pressed my hand to my mouth to stifle a cry. Tears welled up, blurring the ornate hallway into a distorted nightmare. My own father. He had orchestrated everything. The drugged drink, the forced marriage, the five years of misery. All for a company. My mother's company.

Grief turned to ice in my veins, then to a hot, simmering rage. I would not let them destroy what my mother built. I would not let them win.

I stumbled away from the mansion, my mind a chaotic storm. I drove straight to Miller Corp. Tower, the building that bore my family's name, my mother's legacy. I was going to confront David, to demand answers, to end this lie.

But when I reached his office on the top floor, the scene inside froze me. David was holding Samantha Green, my stepsister, in his arms. He was embracing her in the very office where, five years ago, I had brought him a homemade lunch.

I remembered his words that day, cold and cutting. "This is an office, not a place for romance."

Now, he was openly flirting with her, his hands wrapped around her waist.

I took a deep, shaky breath and pushed the door open.

David didn't even look embarrassed. He just tightened his arm around Samantha, pulling her closer. Samantha, nestled in his embrace, shot me a triumphant smirk.

"What do you want?" David asked, his voice as cold as ever.

I looked straight at him, my gaze hard. "Tell her to leave."

"She can hear anything I have to say," David said, a protective tone in his voice, a tenderness I had never, not once, received.

Something inside me snapped. I moved before I could think, grabbing Samantha' s arm and yanking her out of the office. I slammed the door shut and locked it before either of them could react.

"What are you doing?" David's voice was furious, his eyes sharp with anger.

I forced a smile, a bitter, unfamiliar thing on my face. "Do I need a reason to talk to my husband alone?"

David looked stunned. He had never seen me like this. The usual humility, the quiet pleading in my eyes, was gone. There was only steel.

"What do you want?" he asked again, his voice a fraction softer, but still laced with ice.

"If I told you about what happened that night-"

"I don' t want to hear about it," he cut me off impatiently. The same dismissal, the same refusal to listen. Always.

I didn't hesitate any longer. I reached into my bag, pulled out a neatly folded document, and threw it on his desk.

"David Hayes, let' s divorce."

He picked up the document. His eyes fell on the bold words of the divorce agreement, then to my signature at the bottom. His face darkened.

The next second, he ripped the agreement to shreds.

"Why?" he roared, a fury in his voice I had never heard before. "Why do you all get to decide my life?"

He advanced on me, his face a mask of rage. I backed away instinctively until my back hit the cold, hard wall.

"From the moment I was adopted by the Miller family, I was just a tool."

His voice was raw with years of resentment.

"Your mother brought me from the orphanage just to raise a puppet to be your husband and manage Miller Corp.!"

He grabbed my neck, his fingers digging into my skin. The pressure was immense, stealing my breath.

"Chloe, what right do you have to talk about divorce?"

His face was inches from mine, his eyes burning with a terrible light.

"You and your mother are just alike, easily arranging my life without ever asking what I wanted!"