Chapter 2

Colton and I had been college sweethearts.

He was handsome, popular, and the center of attention on campus.

I was just the quiet girl who blended into the background.

My only real passion was animals. I loved making custom pet clothes and toys in my spare time.

After graduation, I took a low-stress, low-paying admin job at a local office.

Colton, whose ego far exceeded his actual skills, hopped between several jobs, hated all of them, and eventually just sat at home doing nothing.

Meanwhile, the little online pet shop I ran as a side hustle started blowing up.

At first, it was just a few hundred dollars in pocket money. Then it steadily grew to a few thousand, and eventually over ten grand a month.

Colton saw dollar signs.

He started stepping in to take product photos, write copy, and pitch the brand on social media.

Under his curated branding, my small shop quickly developed a loyal following.

He told me, “Chloe, you focus on the products, and I’ll handle the marketing and operations. We’re a team—we can build an empire together!”

Blind with love back then, I thought he made complete sense.

I handed over the operational control and the finances entirely to him.

The condo we lived in was bought in cash by my parents as a wedding gift for me.

Then Colton insisted that a man needed a proper image for his career, and that the car he drove was his business card.

Swayed by his sweet talk, I emptied my savings and borrowed another fifteen thousand from my parents to buy him a BMW.

From that moment on, he completely checked out of doing any real work.

He drove the BMW around all day under the guise of “closing deals,” and the second he got home, he’d collapse on the couch and bark orders at me.

“Chloe, this scratching post color is awful. The buyers hate it.”

“Chloe, the fabric on that dog bed looks cheap. Replace it immediately, you’re ruining our brand image.”

“Chloe, how are you this clumsy? You can’t even tape a box straight.”

And every single penny from the store flowed straight into his joint account.

He gave me an “allowance” of five hundred dollars a month, dressing it up with sweet talk:

“A woman shouldn’t stress over money. Managing finances makes you age faster. All you need to do is stay pretty.”

Meanwhile, he used the store’s revenue to send fifteen hundred a month to his mother, buy designer bags for his sister, and constantly upgrade his own gadgets to the latest tech.

His mother, Brenda, treated me like an unpaid maid and a private ATM.

She had moved in from her hometown claiming she was there to take care of us, but in reality, she was just there to supervise my labor.

Once, I had terrible period cramps and couldn't even stand up straight, so I tried to rest on the couch for a bit.

She immediately started sniping with passive-aggressive venom. “Oh, look at our delicate little Chloe. Barely lifted a finger and she’s already whining about being tired.”

“My Colton works so hard out there doing business, and he can’t even get a hot meal when he comes home! Did we marry you into this family so you could sit around like a queen?”

Whenever I tried venting to Colton, he’d just sigh impatiently.

“My mom is just showing tough love. Her bark is worse than her bite. Why can’t you show a little grace to an elder?”

“She just said a couple of words to you. Do you really have to be this petty?”

The moment that broke me for good was when my dad got sick.

My dad suffered a sudden brain hemorrhage and needed emergency surgery. The medical bills came out to thirty thousand dollars.

My own checking account didn’t have nearly enough, so I had to turn to Colton.

It was the very first time I had ever swallowed my pride to beg him.

“Colton, can you please transfer me the money from the store account so my dad can get his surgery?”

“Consider it a loan. I’ll pay back every single cent.”

He was on a FaceTime call with his mother and sister at the time. The second she heard me asking for money, Brenda exploded through the screen.

“What? Thirty thousand dollars! Chloe, have you lost your damn mind?”

“That money belongs to the Shaw family! What right do you have to use it on your father?”

“Your dad being sick is your family’s problem! Don’t you dare try to steal our money!”

Sierra rolled her eyes on camera too. “Seriously, Chloe, we’re tight on cash right now. My bubble tea shop needs that money to restock inventory.”

Looking at the three faces on the screen, a chill seeped into my bones.

I pinned my very last hope on Colton, praying he would stand up for me just this once.

Instead, he just gave me a look of mild embarrassment.

“Babe, my mom and Sierra have a point.”

“Why don’t... why don’t you have your parents dip into their retirement savings first? Or go borrow from some relatives?”

“Our store is scaling up right now. We can’t break our cash flow, or it’ll hurt the business.”

At that exact second, my heart went completely dead.

I didn't beg for another syllable.

I walked back into the bedroom and called my dad’s best friend, Uncle Mark.

Without a second thought, Uncle Mark wired me the thirty thousand dollars.

My dad’s surgery was a success.

Sitting by his hospital bed that night, watching my father sleep, I didn’t close my eyes once.

And that was the night I texted my best friend, Maya.

She was a ruthless divorce attorney.

I compiled every slight, every wire transfer receipt, and every trace of the Shaw family’s abuse into an encrypted file and sent it to her.

After reviewing it, Maya stayed on the phone screaming at me for an entire hour.

“Chloe, you absolute idiot!”

“You didn’t get married—you signed up for charity work!”

“No, scratch that—you’re feeding a whole nest of bloodsucking parasites!”

“What are you keeping this loser around for? A souvenir?”

“Divorce him! Right now! I’ll handle the paperwork. I swear I won’t even leave him with the spare tire on that car!”

On my end of the line, my voice was completely calm. “Deal.”

From that day on, I started setting the board.

I quietly registered a brand-new online store under my own name. I contacted all our supplier factories and told them I was going solo, and that all future purchase orders would go through my new company.

I also went to the bank and got a certified copy of the business loan contract Colton had taken out to buy his BMW—the one where he forged my signature.

He had lied to the bank, claiming our joint company pulled in half a million a year in gross revenue, just to secure that commercial loan.

That was bank fraud.

It was the deadliest trump card in my hands.

I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I was taking revenge.

Everything I had lost over the past three years, I was going to take back—with interest.