Chloe
“I want a div—” A sharp pain exploded across my cheek before I could even finish. The force of the slap sent me sprawling to the ground, my knees scraping against the floor as I fell. My head pounded, my vision blurred, and my cheek throbbed and I tasted the metallic tang of blood on my lips. I wanted to cry, but I refused to let the tears fall. I pressed my forehead against the cold marble floor, trying to steady my breathing. “Put your head up,” a voice barked, cold and venomous. My chest tightened as I hesitated, but the command was not a suggestion. Slowly, I lifted my head, my eyes stinging as I looked up. My older brother, Richard, stood above me, his face twisted in disgust. His sharp features, so much like my own, bore down on me. “Repeat what you just said,” he ordered, his voice quiet now, but that made it even more dangerous. I swallowed hard. I had never gone against my family before. I had known what I was walking into when I came here—known the kind of people they were. But I had no choice. I had nowhere else to go. I didn’t have money. I didn’t work. My husband and my family had made sure of that. I was a housewife, a puppet they had stripped of independence and tied down with invisible strings. Even the home allowance wasn’t given to me, it was handed to Amelia to run the house. They had made sure to chain me completely. “I asked you a fucking question, Chloe!” I flinched as he moved toward the corner of the room, grabbing his golf club from where it rested. Without a second thought, he swung it at the TV, shattering the screen. The crash made me jump, and I scrambled backward, my body shaking. “I said,” he growled, his voice rising again, “I asked you a fucking question!” I could barely get the words out. My throat felt dry, my lips trembling. “I… I said I wanted a divorce,” He froze for a moment, staring at me like I’d just spoken a foreign language. Then he scoffed. “Ah,” he said, his tone mocking as he began pacing. “Is that really what you said? I thought I misheard. But no, it’s true. You…” He pointed the golf club at me, his eyes narrowing. “You asked for a divorce.” “Richard, I—” “Are you out of your damn mind? A divorce?! A fucking divorce!” The golf club then slammed into the corner of the table, shattering the vase on it. I flinched, my back pressed against the cold marble floor as Richard loomed over me, his face twisted in rage. “You’ve really lost your mind, haven’t you?It seems it’s been a long time since I’ve beaten some sense into you. How about we fix that right now?” My heart jumped into my throat as he raised the golf club high, his knuckles whitening from how tightly he gripped it. I closed my eyes instinctively, bracing for the blow. “Enough.” The deep, commanding voice made the air in the room shift. My entire body froze. So did Richard. The rage on his face faltered as we both turned toward the stairs. My father stood there, one hand resting on the banister as he slowly descended. My heart began pounding in my chest, harder and faster with every second. A deep, primal instinct stirred in me—something that made me want to run, to hide, to shrink into myself and disappear. But I couldn’t move. My father walked past Richard without a glance and sat down in the large armchair near the center of the room. He crossed his legs as if he had all the time in the world. The maids entered quickly, their heads bowed as they placed a cup of tea in front of him. He took a sip, his eyes focused on nothing in particular. Finally, he looked at me. “You want a divorce?” I could barely breathe. My chest felt tight, and my vision blurred, but I managed a small nod at his question. “Why?” “I…I’m not happy with my marriage with Logan.” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “I want to divorce him, sir.” For a moment, he said nothing. He took another sip of his tea, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded. “Okay,” he said, setting the teacup down. “That can be arranged. You can divorce him.” I blinked, stunned. My father agreeing with me? Just like that? It didn’t make sense. I stared at him, my mind racing. “I can?” He smiled but there was no warmth in it. “Yes, you can divorce him.” He said, then paused. “Of course, that also means I’ll have no reason to keep protecting your mother anymore.” My entire body went cold. I felt like the ground had opened up beneath me. “What?” “You heard me,” he said, his tone casual, as though he were discussing the weather. “Your mother. The woman I’ve kept alive all these years for your sake. Do you think I do that out of the kindness of my heart?” I shook my head violently, “Please,” I choked out. “Please don’t—” “She’s alive because I allow her to be,” he continued, cutting me off. His voice never rose, but his words struck me like a whip. “One phone call, and she’ll be gone. And trust me, it won’t be quick.” Tears pricked at my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “Why are you doing this?” “You’re the one doing this,” he said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs. “You’re the one asking for a divorce. So go ahead, Chloe. Divorce your husband. Live your life. But don’t expect me to keep your little secret safe anymore.” I hadn’t seen my mother in twelve years. Not since the night he had locked her away. My mother was a mistress, and Richard and I were half-siblings. That was one of the reasons Richard hated me, and he had always shown it since we were younger. Since the first time my mother had brought me to this mansion, the maids and Richard had always bullied me. And while my father didn’t do anything to me physically, he destroyed me emotionally. To manipulate me into being his pawn, he would use my mother to threaten me. I didn’t even know where she was. All I knew was that she was alive, and she was my one anchor, the one person who had ever truly loved me. And now he was using her against me, just as he always had. “I…” My voice cracked as I bowed my head. “I’m sorry.” “Speak up,” “I’m sorry, sir,” I said louder. “I’ll… I’ll never bring it up again. I won’t leave my husband. I’ll stay with him.” I could feel Richard smirking in the background, but I didn’t dare look at him. “I’ll listen to you,” I continued, my voice breaking. “I’ll… I’ll always listen to you.” My father smiled as he picked up his teacup again. “Good girl,” he said, taking a sip. “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” I stayed on the floor, my head bowed, tears falling freely now. The weight of my chains felt heavier than ever. I couldn’t fight him. I never could. Not when my mother’s life hung in the balance. And he knew it. **** “One more!” I screamed, my voice cutting through the blaring music as I slammed my empty glass down on the bar. The bartender raised an eyebrow at me. I didn’t know how I’d ended up here. One moment I was crying in my father’s mansion, manipulated and humiliated, and the next, I was behind the wheel of my car, driving aimlessly through the city. The neon lights of this place had caught my attention, and before I knew it, I was sitting at this bar, drowning my misery in whiskey. When the bartender didn’t move fast enough, I pushed my glass toward him, my hand trembling just slightly. “Didn’t you hear me? One. More.” He gave me a long look, clearly debating whether to humor me. Then he sighed and reached for the bottle, pouring another round of whiskey into my glass. “You sure about this?” I ignored the question, grabbing the glass and tilting it back, letting the liquid burn its way down my throat. The pain felt good. It was better than the dull ache I’d carried in my chest for years. The bartender crossed his arms and leaned on the counter, his gaze scrutinizing me. “Do you even know what kind of bar you’re in?” I frowned, the question pulling me out of my haze. Slowly, I turned my head, letting my eyes adjust to the flashing lights and smoky haze of the room. That’s when I noticed it. The men weren’t wearing shirts—just jeans slung low on their hips, their bodies gleaming with sweat under the neon lights. The women, on the other hand, wore barely anything at all. Just bras, panties, and heels, their bodies swaying seductively as they danced on poles, their movements drawing cheers and whistles from the crowd of men watching them. I blinked, my mind sluggish as the realization hit me. A strip club. My eyes widened, and I turned back to the bartender. “Strip…” I whispered, the word barely leaving my lips. “Yeah. Figured you didn’t know where you were when you walked in here with that dress, looking like you are going to the church across the street.” He gestured to my outfit—a simple, modest dress that now felt horribly out of place. “Just leave, this is too much for someone like you.” My grip tightened on the glass, his words slicing through me like a knife. Someone like you. I’d heard it my entire life. Don’t do this. Don’t do that. You’re not the type for that. Always be obedient. Always be perfect. Always be what everyone else expects. I was so tired of it. So fucking tired of it. The bartender’s voice pulled me back. “Hey, are you okay?” I didn’t answer. Instead, I grabbed the glass and tilted it back, draining the whiskey in one gulp. The burn in my throat was nothing compared to the fire blazing in my chest now. “Miss—” the bartender started, but I cut him off by slamming the glass down and standing abruptly. “No,” I said, my voice firm. I felt his eyes on me as I turned and walked away from the bar. I was done being the obedient doll in a glass house. This time, I was going to find someone. I was going to have fun. I was going to be myself. If Logan can so brazenly cheat on me without having any shame, I would do the same with someone sexier and more attractive. I am going to find a stripper to spend the night with.Alexander The air reeked of alcohol, sweat, and desperation. People swayed on the dance floor like they were possessed, women grinding against men as if their lives depended on it. Voices rose over the music as they flirted shamelessly with every man. Men who craved attention, surrounded by women who wouldn’t normally even look at them if they met outside, were happy and excited at the chance of touching a beautiful woman, even if what they wanted was to suck their pockets dry. How pathetic. I leaned back in my chair, crossing my legs and closing my eyes, letting out a slow breath. What the hell was I doing here again? This place wasn’t my type of scene. The flashing lights, the chaos, the cloying perfume that hung heavy in the air. Annoying. Yet, here I was, sitting in the private section like a king presiding over a court of fools. I opened my eyes and scanned the crowd lazily. Then, out of nowhere, a woman walked toward me, her hips swaying deliberately, a glass of wine in
Chloe I swayed my hips, moving to the beat like a crazed woman. The music pulsed through my body, and I let myself get lost in it. I shook my body, my hair whipped around my face, my dress flowing with my movements, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I was smiling. The people around me clapped, clearly enjoying the energy I brought. I laughed as the women I'd joined on stage moved together with me like we were old friends. We danced like we owned the stage, like this was our moment, and nothing else mattered. I spun around, my arms raised high above my head. This was so fucking fun!!! But not everyone was happy. I caught the irritated expressions of a few men in the crowd, their gazes flickering over me in disdain. No doubt they would rather have someone sexier, someone who fit their fantasies, dancing on stage—a perfectly sculpted, half-naked woman. Certainly not someone like me. Like hell I care. Fuck them all. They get what they get. Greedy little cunt
Alexander “How much for the night, handsome?” I’d heard plenty of absurd things in my life. After all, people had a knack for saying stupid things without thinking, as if words just spilled out of their mouths before their brains caught up. But those things had never once gotten a reaction out of me. I was far too busy, too indifferent to care about people that didn't matter. And they never crossed the line—they never dared to. They cherished their lives. But never—never in my damn life had someone said those words to me before. Never have I had those degrading words thrown at my face without a second thought. Never had a woman looked at me like I was a piece of meat, as if she wanted nothing more than to have her way with me. The audacity. The sheer audacity. Does this woman have a death wish? The corner of my mouth twitched in annoyance. She looked up at me and smiled—a bold, infuriating smile that made my jaw tighten. She didn't even seem to care about the way my e
Chole One word. Big. Damn, he was big. Trust me, I knew. Rather, I felt it—the hard, solid evidence beneath me, pressing against my thigh. Something hard, something big. It made my heart race, and I wanted so badly to remove the stupid clothes separating us. Forget it, this man beneath me was perfect. A stripper who’s big? That’s an extra bonus. The heat coursing through my body took over everything else—name it: common sense, decency, shame. They were all gone, thrown into the trash. I didn't even want to waste another second on small talk. I wanted to stop this back-and-forth and head straight to a bedroom, somewhere private where I could have my way with him. How good would it be if he was half-naked, entertaining me, moving for me. My pulse quickened at the thought. My body was already aching for more. I looked down at him. He had to be feeling the same thing I was, right? I mean, that evidence poking me was clear. Even though his expression was cold, like he wanted noth
Alexander Temptation. People define temptation as many things—a fleeting desire, a moment of weakness, an indulgence that comes with consequences. But I had never understood that word. If you know something is bad for you, why indulge in it? Why get tempted to take something or do something that is bad for you? So, I saw temptation as a test. Fail it, and there would be consequences. I had never been tempted to do something before. Never been tempted to hold a woman, to make her moan, to give her the best orgasm of her life, to fuck her until she couldn’t walk anymore. Desires were never my thing. But... But why on earth was I dying to fail that fucking test? Why was I dying to fuck the woman in front of me? My jaw clenched as her soft moans echoed through the walls. “Ah,” she gasped, her head falling back, her hair cascading over her shoulders as her hand disappeared under the fabric of her dress, sliding along her thigh. Shit. I dragged a hand down my face, as if the gestur
Chloe Three words. I fucked up. Ah, Chloe. You have really fucked your whole life up this time. Not only had I acted like an absolute idiot by going to a strip club of all places, but I had actually gone and done the unthinkable—I slept with a man. Not just any man. A stripper. Oh. My. God. I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands tangled in my hair as I yanked at it in frustration, trying to process what I had just done. My eyes darted to the bed, where he was still lying naked under the sheet. Please tell me this was a dream. Tell me my fucking ass didn't act improper last night. I shook my head. Yes, everything was a dream. Maybe if I just closed my eyes, I would be in my room, ready to make breakfast. And…. I blinked at him, then immediately covered my face with my hands. Ah! This was real. This was really real. What should I do? What the hell should I do?! I peeked through my fingers again, and there he was. His toned chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, and his messy
Alexander “Hahahaha!” Joshua was doubled over, clutching his stomach as loud, as he laughed loudly. His obnoxious cackling echoed through the room, grating on my already frayed nerves. I sat on the edge of the bed, my jaw clenched so tightly it felt like it might snap. The sheet rested low on my waist, leaving my upper body bare. My hair was a mess, and I ran my hand through it in frustration, the events of the morning replaying in my mind. That woman. That damn woman. I could still feel the humiliation boiling under my skin, hot and suffocating. How dare she? How dare she even think of doing this? “Does she want to meet her maker soon?” I muttered under my breath, my tone sharp and deadly. “Is she insane?” Joshua straightened up slightly, wiping tears from his eyes as he held up the crumpled note she had left behind. “Oh my god,” he wheezed, trying to catch his breath. “Let me read this again. Excuse me, Mr. Stripper—” “Don’t,” I growled. But of course, Joshua ignored me.
Chloe "Tap-tap-tap." I knocked on the door gently, glancing over my shoulder, praying no one saw me like this—at least no one who knew Logan or my family. If they caught a glimpse, news would spread like wildfire. I would be a dead woman before I even realized what had happened. “Come on, Stella, open up.” I whispered, biting my lips. The door stayed closed. I knocked again, a little louder this time. I wanted to kick the door open. This girl was probably hungover. Stella was like a dead person in the morning when she was hungover, and getting her to open her eyes was a miracle in itself. “Damn it, why don’t you fix your doorbell? I told you to fix it!” I hissed, knocking on the door again. When she didn’t open it, I groaned in frustration. “Please, Stella, just open the doo—” I was just raising my hand to knock one more time when the door flew open. A very disheveled Stella stood in the doorway, her red hair a frizzy mess, her eyes puffy and bloodshot, and her entire expres
Chloe People always think it’s easy. Easy to walk away. Easy to let go. Easy to do the right thing. Even when I watched movies with Stella and the female lead did something incredibly stupid—something that made no sense, Stella and I would yell at the screen, calling her an idiot, telling her to get her shit together. I never understood. I never saw that it’s hard to do something just because I thought it was simple. What might be easy for one person might be impossible for another. Even now, maybe… maybe I was just making excuses. I pressed my fingers to my temple, feeling the dull throb of a forming headache as Stella’s voice buzzed in my ear. She was still talking, still telling me all the ways Logan was bad for me, still trying to knock some sense into me like she always did. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Stella,” I interrupted, my voice quieter than before. “Can I call you back?” She paused. “…Chloe?” “Everything is confusing me right now. I just… need to thi
Chloe I poked at my food absentmindedly, barely paying attention to it. My appetite had vanished the moment we sat down. “Why aren’t you eating?” I looked up, meeting Logan’s gaze. His fork rested on his plate, untouched, as he stared at me. Before I could answer, his gaze flickered to my plate. “You don’t think I asked them to poison your food, do you?” My fingers tightened around my fork. Well, that could be a possibility. Logan wasn’t exactly above doing something like that. He could have gotten tired of me and wanted me out of the picture so he could have Amelia and any women he wanted all to himself. Or maybe he was finally bored of tormenting me. But instead of letting me go, he decided to speed up the process and send me straight to the afterlife. Instead of showing how suspicious this whole thing was, I forced a smile and shook my head. “I’m just not that hungry. I don’t really eat much at night. Your mother wouldn’t like it if I gained more weight.” Logan paused, his
Alexander I took a slow sip of my whiskey, letting the familiar burn slide down my throat. My expression remained indifferent as I stared at nothing in particular. Someone was talking, but I had long since tuned them out. A loud smack against the table snapped me back to the present. The impact made the plates rattle, and I lazily lifted my gaze to see Joshua glaring at me, his hand still pressed against the table. "Let me guess, you zoned me out again," he said. I took another sip of my drink and hummed. "Correct." Like I said, sometimes it wasn’t intentional, sometimes my mind simply decided what was worth listening to and what wasn’t. And, as usual, Joshua fell into that category. He groaned, running a hand through his hair. "You're a lost cause, Alexander. Sometimes I think God blessed you with a perfect face and a genius brain, but he completely skipped the part where he was supposed to give you emotions. You have zero EQ." He turned to Leo, who was sitting beside
Chloe You are insane. Totally insane, Chloe. Save this marriage? Why would you even think something like that? Are you fucking dumb? I shook my head, trying to force the thought away. What the hell was wrong with me? I knew better. I knew Logan would never love me again. He would never look at me the way he used to. To him, I was nothing more than a wife in title. I was a trophy to parade around when it benefited him. So why… why was I still trying to fix something that had already shattered beyond repair? I sighed, running a hand down the blue dress I had just tried on. It was elegant and modest, with delicate embroidery tracing the hem and sleeves. The material hugged my waist perfectly before flowing down into a graceful A-line skirt. I turned to leave the dressing room, ready to show Logan if he approved of what I was wearing when I heard hushed voices outside. "Did you see her? Why would someone like him be married to someone like her? I can't believe it. He is way too go
Chloe I handed the driver the fare, but he simply shook his head. "Don't worry about it, ma'am. You need it more than me," he said with a sympathetic smile before driving off. I stood there, blinking. Wait… what? What did he mean by that? Did he think I was broke? Well… okay, that was technically true, but I could still pay for my own damn ride. So why would he— I paused. Was this because I said I was picking something out for my husband’s mistress? I groaned, rubbing my temples. That was just a joke! I only said it because he was being nosy and making assumptions. But no, he just had to turn it into a pity party. As if I was some helpless, pitiful woman who couldn’t even afford a taxi ride. Unbelievable. Shaking my head, I shoved the money back into my purse and turned to face the department store. It was massive—just like every other King Department Store across the world. I’d never really been a fan of shopping for clothes. Not because I didn’t like them, but because… w
Chloe I slid the picture across the glass counter, pushing it toward the woman. "Here, can you get something like this?" She leaned in, studying the picture closely. My heart pounded as I waited, silently praying for the answer I wanted. But then, she straightened and gave me a polite smile. "I'm sorry, ma’am, but we can’t make the exact same ring. This piece was customized by an expert. We don’t have the capacity to replicate it exactly. Maybe you should try another shop." I pressed my fingers to my temple, a headache forming. This was the fourth jewelry store that had told me the exact same thing. After leaving the cafe, I’d spent the entire day searching, going from one place to another, hoping someone could duplicate the wedding ring. But no one could. I swallowed hard. If I couldn’t replace it soon, someone in the house would notice—especially my mother-in-law. And if she found out… I exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the counter. She wouldn’t only going to s
Logan Present time I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. Why? Why was I remembering this after all these years? I didn’t know why something I had long forgotten suddenly resurfaced. The moment the words left Alexander’s mouth, it was as if every feeling I had spent years burying came rushing at me. It made me uneasy. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t deny that Chloe had done a lot for me. She had cared for me. She had fought for me. Even though, in the end, she had admitted she never loved me, that it was all pity. That she had only stayed because I was a poor orphan who had no one. It was all a game to her. "Mr. White, are you daydreaming? How disappointing." Alexander indifferent voice cut through my thoughts like a blade. "It was just a simple question," he continued lazily. "You did say you were happily married, didn’t you? So it shouldn’t take you this long to respond." I lifted my gaze. Alexander sat in his chair like a god, completely at ease, as if he had a
Logan "Logan, if the boy’s family doesn’t forgive you, they’ll press charges. And you can say goodbye not only to your life at this school but to your entire future. Joshua’s parents have power with the authorities. They can ruin you. Why would you do something you are not supposed to do? Do you think you are something now that you go to this school? No, Logan you are still a poor orphan with nobody backing you up. You are nothing." The words echoed in my mind as I walked into the girls’ dormitory. Luckily, it was school hours. The hallways were empty. No one saw me slip inside. Not that I cared. None of it mattered right now. I knew she didn’t attend classes during exams. Chloe preferred to study alone, locked away in her room. I remembered her room number. It wasn’t hard to find. I turned the handle. It wasn’t locked. So I stepped inside. As expected from a school this prestigious, the dorm room was grand. It could easily fit seven people at once, yet she had it all to herself.
Logan Eight years ago My head pounded, my vision blurred, but I didn’t stop reading. I forced my eyes to focus on the text, trying to absorb the words, but the moment I read them, they slipped from my mind. At some point, the letters began to blur together, and it only made my headache worse. Tomorrow was my last exam, and if I failed, I’d lose my scholarship. Without the scholarship, I wouldn’t make it to the next semester. And if I didn’t make it to the next semester… I’d lose everything I had worked for. I’d be done. To make things worse, the subject was the one I hated the most. History. I mean, who on earth actually liked history? It was like being forced to gossip about dead people from centuries ago. My own life was already a mess, I didn’t have the time or energy to care about someone else’s from a hundred years back. I exhaled, flipping to the next page, forcing my brain to absorb the formulas in front of me. The prestigious school I attended didn’t care how hard I wor