Chapter 2

"What? Cat got your tongue?" Ethan sneered.

"Chloe, you're both women, but look at Hailey. She's refined, sharp, and indispensable to the business."

"What about you? What do you even bring to the table anymore?"

My hands clenched into tight fists at my sides. Looking at Ethan Vance right now, I felt like I was staring at a complete stranger.

Before I could speak, his phone chimed.

I caught a glimpse of the screen. The caller ID was saved as: *Little Princess.*

He glanced down, immediately stood up, and straightened his collar. "Whatever. Talking to you is like talking to a brick wall. There's an emergency at the office. I'm leaving."

"Give me a ride to my parents' house," I said flatly.

Ethan's face darkened instantly. "Chloe, are you serious? Running back to your parents over every tiny disagreement? What, going to tattle on me to your daddy?"

"Just because I didn't grow up wealthy in this city with a powerful family backing me up, you think you can bully me?"

"You have no idea how much I despise that arrogant, old-money look you and your family always give me."

I was simply heading over to pick up a few things, yet his inferiority complex managed to spin an entire conspiracy theory out of it.

Ever since we got married, my parents had treated him like their own son, backing him unconditionally.

Yet in Ethan's twisted, fragile ego, kindness was just pity, and support was just condescension.

What an ungrateful dog.

"My dad bought a rare vintage tea set. He asked me to come grab it," I replied, my voice hoarse from the fever. I had zero energy to fight with him. "Just drop me off."

Ethan said nothing. I followed him down to the car. Ten minutes later, the sedan pulled up outside my parents' brownstone.

"I'll pick you up after I finish at the office," he muttered.

I shook my head. Ethan was notorious for breaking promises. Once he got caught up with Hailey, it would be well past midnight. I didn't want to wake my parents late, so I planned to take an Uber home after grabbing the set.

Before I could decline, he snapped, "What, planning on sleeping over? A married woman running off to sleep in her childhood bedroom—what will people say about me? Do you think I'm dead?"

Of everything Ethan had said tonight, that was the only accurate statement.

To me, he was as good as dead.

"Wait for me to pick you up," he commanded before speeding off into the night.

I went upstairs and stayed for hours. My phone never buzzed.

Seeing how late it was getting, my parents urged me to stay the night so Ethan wouldn't have to drive back and forth.

But I knew the truth. Ethan was wrapped up in his "princess's" arms. He wasn't coming.

"Don't worry, Mom, Dad. An Uber ride takes fifteen minutes. Get some sleep. I'll come visit again this weekend."

I hugged them and left.

When I unlocked the front door of our penthouse, I hadn't even taken off my coat before the door was shoved open behind me.

Ethan stormed in, his eyes blazing with fury. "Chloe! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Leaving on your own without even telling me? Do you know I actually went back up to your parents' apartment to look for you?"

"Do you have any idea how humiliating it was to stand there in their living room all by myself?"

I dug my nails into my palms. "They are my parents. But aren't they supposed to be yours, too?"

"Ethan, ask yourself honestly: how much did my family help you when you started from nothing? You can disrespect me in this house, but can you show my parents an ounce of basic human decency?"

"I wasn't there for twenty minutes, and you couldn't even step inside to say hello?"

Besides, I had waited for him until midnight. My parents were elderly and needed to sleep.

"You're completely unhinged," Ethan spat, not wanting to hear the truth. He shoved past me and slammed the door to the guest room.