Chapter 2

After their formal engagement, Brandon moved completely out of our shared penthouse.

On moving day, he deliberately instructed the chauffeur to take me out for the entire afternoon, strictly barring me from coming home.

I knew exactly what he was doing. He was terrified I would make a scene and try to stop him.

What he failed to realize was that I genuinely no longer cared.

A week later, Brandon’s mother invited me over for a family dinner.

The moment I sat down at the dining table, Tiffany slipped into the seat next to me.

She leaned in close, whispering in my ear with an air of delicate vulnerability.

"Chloe, do you have a spare pad on you? My period just started out of nowhere."

As much as I despised her guts, I wasn't the kind of girl who would leave another woman stranded in an emergency like that.

I nodded and kept my voice down.

"Yeah, I have one in my purse. Come to the restroom with me and I'll give it to you."

She grabbed my wrist, looking deeply touched.

"Thank you so much."

Under Brandon’s watchful eyes, she followed me down the hall to the guest bathroom.

The second I unzipped my bag to pull it out, her soft persona vanished, and her voice turned sharp.

"Save it. Keep it in your bag."

"I'm not on my period. I just needed an excuse to drag you away from the table."

I rolled my eyes in pure disgust and immediately spun on my heel to walk out.

Tiffany lunged forward, grabbing my arm with iron force, her face instantly morphing back into a pitiful mask.

"Why do you have to treat me like this?"

I froze, staring at her in utter bewilderment.

"What on earth are you talking about?"

She pointed toward the dining room, her voice breaking into theatrical sobs.

"Why do you keep badmouthing me in front of Mrs. Shaw?"

"Brandon and I finally got engaged! I just wanted this family dinner to bond with his mother."

"And what did you do? You showed up uninvited, sat right between us, and froze me out!"

"I get that you're bitter, Chloe, but you can't force someone to love you! Can't you just let us be happy?"

Before I could even open my mouth to shut her down, she dropped heavily to her knees and began violently slapping her own face.

With every brutal strike, tears streamed down her cheeks as she wailed.

"If punishing myself makes you feel better, then please, I beg you, stop harassing us!"

"Brandon and I love each other! Please, just let me go!"

I reached out instinctively, wanting to grab her wrists to force her to stop this sick performance.

Instead, Tiffany snatched my wrist, yanked my palm hard across her own cheek with all her strength, and threw herself backward.

Crash!

She hit the marble floor with a dramatic thud.

To anyone walking in, it looked unmistakably like I had backhanded her off her feet.

"Chloe Crawford!"

Brandon came sprinting around the corner, walking right into the aftermath.

Without asking a single question, he grabbed my shoulder and shoved me brutally against the edge of the marble vanity.

My lower back—still weak from an old injury—took the brunt of the impact. A blinding spike of agony shot up my spine, making it impossible to stand.

Gasping for air, I slid helplessly down the side of the counter onto the cold floor.

Brandon didn't spare me a second glance. He scooped Tiffany into his arms, glaring down at me with murderous rage.

"Chloe Crawford! When the hell are you going to grow up?!"

"I've tolerated your childish tantrums our entire lives! But this time, you crossed the damn line! Apologize to her right now!"

Tiffany curled against his chest like an injured bird, trembling as if she were holding back tears of martyrdom.

"No, Brandon, leave it... I'm sure Chloe didn't mean to."

"She's just having a hard time accepting that we're together."

Brandon shook his head, his tone deadly serious.

"You're far too soft-hearted, Tiffany. That's why people walk all over you."

He snapped his glare back to me, barking like an interrogator.

"Say it. Apologize!"

I pressed my lips together until they turned white, my voice trembling with cold detachment.

"I'm sorry."

"Not good enough!" he roared.

A bitter laugh broke through my lips.

"Then what do you want? You want me to get down on my knees and grovel at her feet before it counts?"

Brandon startled slightly, clearly unprepared for my icy defiance.

Disgust flashed across his features. Scooping Tiffany higher into his arms, he turned his back on me and walked away.

"You're becoming completely unbearable!"

Watching their retreating silhouettes, an overwhelming wave of irony washed over me.

It turns out that whether a man loves you or not is as clear as day.

What a tragedy that it took me fourteen years to finally see it.