Chapter 2

Ethan strode over, pulling Chloe behind his back to shield her. "Clara, do you have to make a scene and embarrass everyone? Chloe is just an intern. I brought her here to get some exposure."

He lowered his voice, hissing, "This is a public event. Show some restraint."

I smiled.

I stepped forward, gently helped Chloe up, and smiled at the cameras. "Everyone, this is Chloe Bennet. She’s a new intern on our team. She has a lot of potential."

The farce ended in a tense, hypocritical peace.

When the interviews wrapped up, I pulled out my phone to book a flight. Ethan suddenly snatched it out of my hand. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Paris."

"Paris?" He frowned. "We don't have any business in Paris right now. Did you book this on your own?"

I took my phone back. "Personal business."

Ethan's reaction surprised me. This hands-off husband was actually interrogating me.

A flash of panic crossed his eyes as he grabbed my wrist. "What exactly are you trying to do?"

Before I could answer, a scream echoed from backstage.

Ethan let go of me instantly and sprinted toward the noise. I picked up my dropped phone, confirmed the ticket payment went through, and then walked backstage.

The display area was a total mess. Chloe was sitting on the floor, a jagged piece of shattered acrylic panel having sliced a bloody gash across her arm.

"Ethan... my arm hurts so bad... will it scar?" She looked up with tear-filled eyes. "Clara asked me to double-check the displays. I really didn't know these shelves were unstable..."

Ethan carefully cradled her arm, his eyes turning red with fury.

He whipped his head around and glared at me. "Clara Miller, have you had enough?"

"Chloe is just an intern, and you made her move heavy displays? What is wrong with you?"

"I didn't care when you drank with clients to close deals, but now you're resorting to these pathetic, dirty tricks?"

The surrounding staff whispered, throwing judgmental looks my way. I said in a flat voice, "I was at the front stage giving interviews half an hour ago. I never told her to—"

"You didn't have to tell her yourself!" Ethan cut me off, his voice shaking with rage. "Who in this company doesn't listen to you? A single hint from you is enough!"

He pointed at Chloe’s bleeding arm. "Apologize to her. Now! Or I'm calling the cops!"

I smirked. I was about to say, "Go ahead, call them and check the security cameras," but Chloe threw herself into his chest. "Don't call the police, Ethan... I'm sure Clara didn't mean to..."

Ethan took a deep breath. His eyes swept over the corner of the room, and he suddenly grabbed the crystal trophy sitting on the shelf—the Golden Design Award our company had won last year. He slammed it down violently at my feet.

The crystal shattered into a million pieces, a stray shard slicing right through my ankle.

Blood began to seep out.

"Consider this payback!" Ethan's roar echoed through the backstage. "Listen up, everyone! Starting today, Clara Miller is barred from all company affairs! Anyone who takes orders from her will be fired on the spot!"

He scooped Chloe up, shoved past me, and walked away without looking back once.

I stood there, and my tears finally fell, mixing with the blood on the broken crystal trophy.

This trophy was something Ethan and I had pulled countless all-nighters for during the early days of our startup. He had once told me, "Clara, half of this trophy belongs to you."

Now, he had smashed it with his own hands.

I knelt, picked up the largest shard, and squeezed it tightly in my palm. The pain was sharp and clear.

Then, I opened my hand and let it drop back into the wreckage.