Chapter 2

Opening Ins, the posts about Chad had stopped back in June of last year.

Back then, egged on by curious followers, I had shared a side profile photo of him.

That was how I found out he was the youngest heir of the powerful Sterling Group.

At the time, he was vacationing in Saint-Tropez with Sienna, who had conveniently spent three years abroad.

I had bought an overnight ticket to confront him, only to be stopped at the airport gate by Sterling Group's security team.

That was the first time I met Julian Sterling.

He wasn't much older than Chad, yet he was already the undisputed head of the Sterling empire, carrying an aura of quiet authority far beyond his years.

From Julian, I learned the entire ugly truth behind Chad's faked death.

At first, I refused to believe it. I thought it was just family politics aimed at driving us apart.

Then, Julian played an audio recording of Chad's voice:

"Every woman who throws herself at me claims she loves me. Real or fake, I stopped caring long ago. But Chloe is different... The more pain she suffers for me, the more real her love feels. That's why I want to break her. I want to see just how far she'll go for me..."

My hands had trembled so violently that I could barely hold my boarding pass. Julian had quietly handed me a glass of water.

"You heard him. My nephew is sick in the head. Staying away from him is the best thing you can do for yourself."

Later, after learning I was a concept sculptor, he asked for my number.

Later still, on a stormy night, two lonely souls found solace in each other's arms, and affection bloomed in the dark.

Thank God I didn't waste the rest of my life chasing a ghost.

A few days later, the production held a dinner banquet. Chad brought Sienna and sat at the head table.

Right there, he announced an additional twenty-million-dollar investment to boost her role.

"Chloe, what are you waiting for? Come toast Mr. Sterling and Sienna to thank them!"

Director Miller chimed in smoothly, clearly eager to offer me up for their entertainment.

Not a single cent of that money was going into my pocket. Why the hell should I drink?

Seeing me remain still, Chad let out a light laugh.

"What's wrong, Chloe? Seeing me in person makes you want to play the good, quiet girl?"

One of his friends immediately picked up the cue:

"I heard while Chad was studying abroad, you lived in a rat-infested basement that even stray dogs avoided, scrubbing toilets by day and doing sketchy streams by night. Why don't you chug this whole bottle of whiskey for Director Miller? Maybe Chad will feel generous and pay off your debts!"

Back then, to pay for Chad's supposed medical bills, I had borrowed heavily.

After his fake suicide, I did struggle for a while to pay it back. But with my miniature sculpting skills, my life was never as pathetic as they claimed.

Chad shot me an amused glance, deliberately pulling Sienna in for a kiss.

"As long as my girlfriend is cool with it, I don't mind handing out charity."

Sienna beamed with smug triumph, her voice high and sharp. "One bottle isn't enough! Chad's money doesn't grow on trees. She has to finish at least twenty bottles!"

I slowly looked up. After a moment, I said calmly, "I'm pregnant. I can't drink."

Remembering his conversation from that night, I added evenly:

"And besides, I'm getting married soon."

Director Miller immediately gave me a rough nudge.

"Chloe, cut the crap! Mr. Sterling is giving you a chance—don't be ungrateful!"

Someone else sneered, "Everyone knows you nearly died in the mountains crying over Chad! Who the hell would believe you're getting married?"

"Exactly! Chloe, if you were really getting married, how could my mom not know? Unless..."

Sienna suddenly covered her mouth with a dramatic gasp.

"Oh goodness! You didn't sell yourself for quick cash, accidentally get knocked up, and now you're scrambling into a shotgun wedding to hide your shame, did you?"

Chad's eyes darkened for a split second, then he let out a harsh scoff.

"Chloe, are you making up cheap lies just to test my reaction? Give it a rest. I don't give a damn who you are anymore. Looking at you just pisses me off."

"Fine. Then I won't stay and offend your eyes, Mr. Sterling."

Just as I stood up, Chad grabbed a glass of wine and splashed it right into my face.

"Did I say you could leave?"

"Chad, what do you want?"

He arched an eyebrow, pulled out a black credit card, and stepped in front of me.

"Didn't you say you're pregnant? Finish these twenty bottles, and this black card is yours."

"I'd love to see... if that bastard baby actually miscarries."