Chapter 3

Postpartum recovery is a living nightmare: tears running down your face, milk leaking from your chest, and blood draining from your body.

No one truly understands unless they've survived it.

I sat staring blankly out the floor-to-ceiling window, tears silently tracing my cheeks.

Simon, the director, walked over and nervously rubbed his palms together. "Chloe, the payout from that last brand deal finally cleared. Just wanted to let you know... after fees, it came out to fifty grand."

I paused, my sleep-deprived brain struggling to process the number. "Tyler told me that contract was only worth thirty thousand."

Simon pressed his lips into a tight line, looking away.

Seeing his hesitation, suspicion flared within me. "Has Tyler been lying to me about the payout on every single brand deal?"

Simon took a quiet step back, pulled out his phone, and handed me the screen.

Sure enough, every single invoice had two different figures.

I took a long, steadying breath, fighting down the burning rage in my chest.

Simon took the opportunity to swipe to another photo in his camera roll, pointing at a designer handbag.

"Also... Tyler hasn't reimbursed me for buying this bag on his behalf yet."

My eyes widened. It was a limited-edition European luxury bag, nearly impossible to find locally.

I had seen that exact bag on the shoulder of one of our female studio interns. No wonder she had looked terrified when I asked her where she got it.

I looked down at the plain silver bracelet on my wrist. The gift he gave me for pushing out his child wasn't worth a fraction of what he spent spoiling another woman.

Handing the phone back, I gritted my teeth. "Did you come over here just to tell me this?"

Simon pocketed his phone and picked up a throw blanket, gently draping it over my shoulders.

"Yes. You have a right to know the truth."

I wrapped the blanket around myself and met his gaze. "What are you getting at, Simon?"

Dropping his usual meek and timid demeanor, Simon offered a sharp, calculating smirk.

"Chloe... do you want to take Tyler down with me?"

I blinked, caught off guard.

Simon placed a finger against his lips and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Go check the nursery right now. You'll see what I mean."

Panic seized me at the mention of my baby. I sprang to my feet and rushed toward the nursery. The moment I reached the cracked door, voices drifted out.

The cameraman sounded nervous and hesitant. "Tyler, man... are you sure about this?"

Tyler’s voice was as arrogant and dismissive as ever. "What's the big deal? She won't stop screaming. How are we supposed to get the shot?"

There was a tense pause before the cameraman asked, "Giving a newborn sleeping drops... isn't that dangerous?"

My brain short-circuited.

The words shattered into pieces and violently reassembled in my mind.

My body moved before I could even think.

I kicked the door open. Tyler was standing there holding a dropper filled with liquid medicine.

Shocked by my sudden entrance, he instinctively shoved his hands behind his back. "Chloe? What are you doing in here?"

I lunged forward, snatching my wailing baby from the crib and clutching her tightly to my chest. My eyes blazed through fresh tears.

"She’s barely a few weeks old, Tyler! You were going to drug your own daughter with sedatives?"

"Are you even human?"

The cameraman backed out of the room awkwardly, eyes glued to the floor, terrified to say a single word.

Tyler tossed the dropper onto the dresser, sneering. "I was just trying to get her to sleep so we could film the promo clip."

"I measured the dosage carefully. It’s harmless. Honestly, have you noticed how insane your temper has been since you popped that kid out?"

I couldn't believe he was trying to gaslight me. A bitter, cold laugh escaped my throat as I whipped Simon's printed invoices out of my pocket and slammed them against his chest.

"Who are you really working for, Tyler? The money you spent on me and our baby isn't even half of what you dropped on that intern's designer bag!"

Tyler spread his arms wide, a picture of smug indifference. "So what? What are you gonna do about it?"

A freezing chill ran down my spine. A quote I had read online long ago suddenly flashed through my mind:

Men like that only keep up the act until the baby is born.

Waves of fury and betrayal battered against my skull. Remembering Simon’s offer, the final hesitation in my heart vanished.

I was going to repay every single debt with my own hands.