Chapter 3

I hadn't even drifted off to sleep when the violent slam of the front door shook the house.

The divorce agreement had been ripped to shreds and tossed into the trash can.

I genuinely couldn't understand.

If he didn't love me, why refuse to let go?

Suddenly, my phone vibrated on the nightstand.

A message from Chloe popped up on SnapChat, accompanied by a photo of Julian holding her tightly in his arms.

[Rachel, why is he always so clingy? Did you two get into another fight?]

I scrolled up.

The chat log was an endless gallery of their intimate moments.

Julian drying her hair, Julian cooking breakfast for her.

Julian even allowing her to plaster childish, pastel stickers across the dashboard of his limited-edition sports car.

She treated our chat like a diary.

Dumping every single private, affectionate moment with my husband right into my face.

Another message popped up.

A picture of Julian asleep, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist.

The silk pajamas he wore were the ones I had bought for him with my own money.

Her caption read:

[Rachel, he only made that will to cheer me up. It doesn't even have any real legal power, so please don't fight with him over it.]

[Did you know, though? He's been sponsoring me since middle school, long before he even met you.]

[The first time he saw you, he told me your dimples looked just like mine.]

[I really hope the baby inherits those dimples. It would make him so happy.]

That final sentence made my stomach violently churn.

A wave of pure revulsion crashed over me, sending me scrambling into the bathroom.

I knelt before the toilet, heaving until tears streamed down my face.

Gripping the edge of the sink, I stared at the faint dimples on my pale reflection.

A heart that I thought was completely numb felt as though it were being ripped apart by jagged glass.

So that was it.

He chose me back then only because he needed a shield to protect the underage Chloe Vance.

I just happened to show up, looking faintly like her—a convenient, disposable substitute.

My vision blurred. Wiping my face with the back of my hand, I typed a reply:

[You love picking up trash? Be my guest. Secondhand garbage suits you perfectly.]

A second later, Julian's call lit up my screen.

Years ago, whenever Chloe posted subtle, flirtatious stories with him on Ins and I dared to leave a like, he would react exactly like this.

He would call instantly to berate me for being petty.

Back then, I would frantically apologize, crying that I hadn't meant to upset her.

Now, I blocked his number without a second thought.

Then, I deleted every single piece of contact info linked to him.

Once my breathing stabilized, I called the moving company.

I packed light.

Just my clothes and my design portfolio sketches.

Every single thing tied to him—including my wedding ring—was left behind on the dresser.

Before walking out, I took one last look at the sprawling penthouse.

When I first moved in, I believed it would be the sanctuary of our shared future.

Only now did I see it for what it truly was: a gilded cage built to keep me in line.

Now, I was finally free.

By the time I finished unpacking and cleaning the little rental, night had fallen.

I planted a few small potted herbs on the tiny balcony.

It was cramped, but for the first time in years, it felt like home.

Just as I lay down to rest, my phone rang.

It was an unknown number—Julian's executive assistant.

The moment I answered, Julian's frigid voice cut through the receiver.

"Rachel, what the hell are you playing at? I've told you a hundred times, Chloe's heart can't take stress!"

"Do you have any idea what kind of state you put her in with that message?!"

"Get your ass back home right now and I'll let this slide. Just carry my heir to term like you're supposed to."

My fingers tightened around the phone until my knuckles turned white.

Even after I walked out, his immediate, burning concern was still Chloe Vance.

My safety, my body, my mental state...

None of it had ever crossed his mind for a single second.

"Rachel! Talk to me! Did you hear what I said?!"

"Come back right—"

I ended the call and blocked the number. Smooth, swift, decisive.

Just as he wished, I would never upset Chloe Vance again.

And I would never let them poison my life again.