Chapter 2

"Chloe, are you ready?"

At two in the morning, Logan Hayes called. His voice was steady and calm, as always.

I had returned alone to the penthouse I shared with Julian, standing in the dark, empty living room.

"I’ve waited three years. Isn't that long enough?"

"You're trending number one on Twitter and Ins: #CEOShamesWifeAtGala. Over twenty million impressions in forty minutes."

Logan paused. "Sterling Group's three main institutional investors just sent a joint demand for an emergency audit."

"Good," I murmured softly.

I hung up and walked into the walk-in closet.

It was packed with suits, ties, and cufflinks I had personally picked out for Julian.

Every single one had been ironed and pressed by my own hands.

Three years of memories flooded my mind.

On our wedding night, Julian had cupped my face and whispered tenderly: "Chloe, you're the only one for me in this lifetime."

Back then, I had just rushed home from abroad. My father, Arthur Vance, had suffered a massive stroke. The company was in turmoil, and my uncle, Donald Vance, was circling like a vulture.

My mother had passed away early, and I was all alone.

Julian was the only warmth in my life.

I reached deep into the back of the closet, pulling out a hidden black folder.

Inside was all the evidence I had spent three years gathering.

The first page was a toxicology report.

The conclusion: my infertility was caused by the prolonged ingestion of a chronic sterilizing compound.

And that compound had been mixed into the daily organic wellness tonics that my mother-in-law, Beatrice, personally made for me every morning.

Three months ago, when I first received this report, I felt completely numb.

Around 3:00 AM, the front lock clicked.

Julian stumbled in, reeking of alcohol.

He didn't come to see me. He locked himself straight in the study and began making frantic calls.

The once-arrogant CEO was now groveling on the other end of the line.

"Mr. Reynolds, please, just give me another chance..."

"Director King, after all these years of friendship..."

He sounded so pathetic I barely recognized him.

At 4:00 AM, the doorbell began buzzing incessantly.

Beatrice stormed inside, wrapped in a lavish mink coat.

Without even looking toward her son in the study, she charged into my bedroom and raised her hand to slap me.

"You miserable bitch! You're trying to ruin this family!"

I didn't flinch.

Just before her palm landed, I caught her wrist in a vice grip.

I squeezed hard enough to make her gasp in pain.

"Beatrice, I drank your special tonics for three whole years. I didn't waste a single drop."

Beatrice’s face instantly lost all color.

"What... what tonics? I don't know what you're talking about!" she stammered defensively.

I flung her hand away and tossed the lab reports, along with the certified test logs of the samples I had secretly saved, right onto the bed.

Page after page, spread out under her eyes.

"Every single one has a forensic timestamp and a seal from an accredited lab."

"Care to guess how many years in federal prison this gets you?"

She completely collapsed onto the rug.

The study door flew open.

Julian rushed in. When his eyes caught the reports, his face went paper-white.

He stared at his mother in absolute disbelief.

"Mom... is this true?"

Beatrice finally broke, breaking into loud, hysterical wails.

"I did it for you! She couldn't give you a son! What was going to happen to the Sterling family line?!"

I had no interest in watching their twisted family drama.

I walked to the foyer, put on my trench coat, and grabbed the black folder.

I looked back one last time at the home I had maintained for three years.

The spotless hardwood floors, the floral arrangements, the breakfast ingredients in the fridge I had prepared for him tomorrow morning.

My eyes burned slightly, but not a single tear fell.

"My lawyer will deliver a revised version of the divorce settlement tomorrow."

I opened the front door.

A man was standing outside in the hallway.

Logan.

He leaned against the wall, the collar of his black wool coat turned up against the midnight chill.

Seeing me step out, he asked no questions. He simply turned and opened the car door for me.

Julian chased me to the doorway. The moment he laid eyes on Logan, his pupils contracted sharply.

He recognized him instantly.

Logan Hayes. The founder of Abyss Legal.

The most ruthless divorce attorney in high society, a man who had never lost a single case.