Chapter 5

**Chloe's POV**

Today, I was running the final dress rehearsal in the dance studio.

The studio owner, Martha, walked over and whispered, "Chloe, someone just called the front desk asking about where we store the recital costumes and audio files. It felt off."

I let out a cold laugh. I didn't even need to think to know it was Hudson and his cronies.

They wanted to ruin my hard work using their old tricks?

In their dreams!

I didn't panic. I calmly gave Martha my instructions. "Martha, lock all the original costumes in the office safe right now. Also, I had the supplier rush a batch of identical backup costumes. I need you to quietly lock them in the trunk of your car. Copy the audio files onto three separate flash drives—one for you, one for me, and one for the sound engineer to keep on them at all times."

"And slip the head of security a fifty-dollar tip and buy a box of donuts for the team. Tell them that on the day of the show, if anyone from Julian’s studio comes anywhere near backstage, call the cops immediately!"

Martha looked at my swift, ruthless arrangements. Shocked but incredibly relieved, she said, "Chloe, you used to trust them way too much."

"I was blind back then. I've cured my eyes now."

I looked at my fierce, determined reflection in the mirror, a cold smirk playing on my lips.

I was no longer the pathetic girl who compromised everything for Julian.

For the recital at the end of the month, not only was I going to pull off a flawless show, but I was also going to give Julian and Melanie a gift they would never forget!

Julian came to the dance studio just as I was running a rehearsal with the kids.

I was wearing a simple leotard, my hair pulled up in a neat bun, correcting a little girl's posture step by step.

I looked busy.

And completely at peace.

Julian stood at the door, realizing his presence didn't distract me at all.

In the past, the second he showed up, I would have run out to ask if he had eaten, if he was tired, or if he wanted water.

Now, I only spared him a single glance before turning back to the class.

After class, Julian blocked me. "Are you breaking your lease?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Where are you going?"

"Savannah."

"Who said you could leave?"

The moment the words left his mouth, Julian himself froze.

I, however, chuckled. "Do I need your permission to go anywhere, Julian?"

Julian's face darkened. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean?"

He couldn't answer.

He was just too used to me revolving around him, too used to his name always occupying the top spot in my schedule.

My sudden departure made him instinctively want to force me back into my place.

"The Savannah Company is mediocre," he scrambled for an excuse. "If you stay here, I can help you get another audition with the National Theater."

"No, thank you."

"Chloe, don't throw away your career over a tantrum."

I packed up my teaching materials and looked up at him. "I didn't miss my audition because of a tantrum, Julian."

Julian's face went pale.

I didn't say another word.

Some wounds don't hurt any less when talked about; they only give the abuser another chance to make excuses.

I brushed past him and walked out.