Chapter 3

He looked noticeably more haggard than the last time I had seen him. His hair had thinned into streaks of gray, though his tailored bespoke suit remained impeccably sharp.

When his eyes landed on me, he stopped dead in his tracks. A deep scowl instantly twisted his features.

"What on earth are you doing here?"

His voice was thick with revulsion, as if my mere presence were a toxic stain on the carpet.

I didn't acknowledge him. I simply kept smoothing the corner of the fitted sheet.

"Chloe, I'm speaking to you!" he raised his voice sharply.

I folded the damp towel, turned around, and looked him dead in the eye with complete detachment.

"Mr. Vance, this is a private medical room. Please keep your voice down."

My formal address caught him off guard, choking off his words. His face turned an ugly shade of puce.

"You..."

A middle-aged man behind him—clearly an executive aide—hurried forward to smooth things over.

"Mr. Vance, this is Mr. Sterling’s private, full-time caretaker. We really should check on the Chairman first."

Arthur let out a cold, sharp sneer, glaring at me with contempt before stepping toward the primary bed.

That was when it clicked. The paralyzed gentleman I was caring for was Arthur Vance’s major business partner and primary investor.

Small world.

Whatever corporate matters they discussed, I didn't care to overhear.

All I noticed was that for the rest of his visit, Arthur never spared me another glance.

He treated me precisely as he saw me: an utter nobody.

When Arthur finally left, Mr. Sterling’s son took my hand, his eyes brimmed with genuine gratitude. "Miss Hall, we can't thank you enough. My father keeps saying you take better care of him than his own children ever did."

I offered a polite, gentle smile and stayed silent.

His own child?

I had once believed I was someone’s precious child, too.

And what did that get me?

A disposable spare part, discarded the second it outlived its utility.

Arthur returned to the hospital several times over the following weeks.

Every single time, he looked straight through me.

Once, a luxury fruit basket he brought was placed haphazardly on a cart in the hall. As I maneuvered a heavy medical monitor past it, the basket tipped over.

Fresh fruit scattered across the polished floor.

He didn't even twitch an inch to help. He simply looked down at me from his towering height, his tone entirely commanding: "Pick it up."

I knelt on the cold linoleum, retrieving the fruit piece by piece and placing it back into the basket.

In that quiet corridor, he took whatever scrap of pride I had left and ground it under his polished Oxford shoes.

I whispered to myself: Endure it, Chloe. Keep your head down.

Revenge is a dish best served cold.

I would patiently wait for the day they paid in full for everything they had done.

Three years flashed by in the blink of an eye.

During those three years, I worked around the clock, hoarding every cent I earned.

I was no longer the fragile, easily manipulated Chloe Vance. I legally changed my name to Harper Hall.

With my hard-earned savings and private medical connections, I launched a boutique agency providing elite, high-end private caregiving services.

Because my standards were exacting and my discretion was absolute, the agency's reputation skyrocketed among wealthy families, and the business expanded rapidly.

I bought myself a cozy little condominium in the city. It wasn't sprawling, but it was mine, and it was warm.

I truly thought the Vance family and I were finished for good.

Until one afternoon, an unsaved number lit up my phone screen.

I answered. Eleanor’s sobbing, frantic voice crackled through the speaker.

"Chloe... Chloe, baby, it's Mom."

I hung up immediately.

Seconds later, the phone buzzed again.

I declined it.

After four consecutive calls, I finally answered, my patience worn thin.

"What do you want?" I said, keeping my tone dead and cold.

"Chloe, don't hang up! Please, Mom is begging you! Please come home!"

"I don't have a mother."

"Chloe, I know you hate us! We were wrong, we failed you! But... but we found your sister!"