Chloe sobbed in the front seat of her car, her fingers gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline. The heavy rain pelted the windshield, blurring the city lights into streaks of gold and silver. But none of it mattered.
It was him. The man from the rooftop. The stranger she thought was nothing more than a fleeting mistake. It was Damien Cross.
How could she have been so blind?
She sat in silence only to be interrupted by the incessant buzzing of her phone.
She glanced at the screen to see the caller. It was her father. James Bennett.
For a brief second, she considered letting it ring, maybe even tossing the phone into the nearest trash can and driving off. But Chloe knew better.
But ignoring him would only make things worse.
With a reluctant sigh, she answered. "Hello."
Her father's voice was cold and stern.
"How did the meeting go?"
Chloe swallowed the lump in her throat. "It went fine. I secured the deal. Our office should be in contact with Morelli soon."
A brief silence settled over the phone and then-
"I heard about your little… moment." His voice was dangerously low. "Running out like a scared little girl. How dare you embarrass me like that?"
Chloe's stomach twisted. Of course, he knew. He always knew
"I just needed a minute."
"You needed a minute," he repeated, mockingly. "Chloe, do you understand how important this deal is? You can't afford to have weak moments."
She clenched her jaw. "I know."
"Do you?" His disappointment sliced through her like a blade. "Because you've been acting erratic lately. And erratic behaviour leads to mistakes. Mistakes lead to failure."
She closed her eyes, gripping the phone tighter.
"And failure, Chloe," James said smoothly, "is not an option."
Her pulse pounded in her ears. "I understand."
"Good girl." The shift in his tone was so abrupt it made her skin crawl. "Now, go home and get some rest. We have work to do."
The line went dead.
Chloe exhaled shakily, blinking against the sting in her eyes. A crushing wave of exhaustion pressed down on her chest, and for a moment, she felt like she was drowning.
She needed to get out of here.
Without thinking, she pulled up her contacts and found the number she hadn't dialled in months.
Chloe waited as the phone rang, a part of her hoping the person would pick up.
Then a familiar, warm voice answered.
The phone rang. And then, a voice warm and familiar answered.
"Chloe?"
Her breath wavered. "I… I need to see you."
The person on the phone paused for a while, before responding gently.
"Come over."
The drive passed in a blur of neon lights and slick, rain-soaked streets. She barely registered the turns, only the deep ache in her chest.
Chloe headed to a familiar address, the drive blurred past her in flashes of neon and streetlights. She vaguely remembers the turns and routes but she she did everything she could to get there as soon as possible.
When she finally pulled up to the quiet estate, she hesitated, her fingers trembling against the steering wheel. The house stood just as she remembered—pristine white walls glowing under the soft exterior lights.
It had been so long since she came here.
She stepped out, her pulse hammering as she approached the door. Just as she raised her hand to knock, it swung open.
And there she was.
Soft brown eyes lined with concern. Elegant curls swept over her shoulders. She hadn't changed at all.
"Chloe, you're here?"
Something inside her shattered at the sound of her mother's voice.
Her vision blurred. Her breath hastened. And suddenly, she was falling—collapsing under the weight of everything she had carried for too long.
A gut-wrenching sob tore from her throat, the kind she had never allowed herself before. The kind that couldn't be silenced. It was sharp and painful.
Before she could hit the ground, Miranda Bennett caught her.
The older woman pulled her close, arms tightening around her as Chloe shook violently.
"Shh, sweetheart," Miranda whispered, stroking her hair. "I've got you. I'm here."
Chloe clutched at her, gripping the fabric of her dress like a lifeline.
"Mom… please fix me," she choked out, her voice breaking. "Please… I can't do this anymore."
Miranda tensed. But she didn't let go.
"I slept with him," Chloe confessed, her words tumbling out in a desperate rush. "With a stranger. I thought it was nothing, but it wasn't. It—wasn't—"
Her mother's grip tightened. "Breathe, baby. Just breathe."
But she couldn't. Because now the words wouldn't stop.
"I found out who he is." Her voice was barely a whisper. "He's Damien. Damien Cross."
A heavy silence weighed between them as Chloe let her lips loose at her mother's doorstep.
"And there's… Sienna—" Chloe choked, gasping for air.
Miranda inhaled sharply. "Oh, Chloe…"
She didn't ask for explanations. She didn't ask for reasons. She just held her.
And for the first time in a long time, Chloe let herself break.
________
By the time the storm outside had settled, Chloe sat curled on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The warm cup of tea in her hands barely registered as she stared blankly at the floor.
The only sound in the dimly lit living room was the faint ticking of an antique clock.
Across from her, Miranda studied her in quiet contemplation.
Even after all these years, she still carried the same elegance Chloe remembered as a child. Sharp features softened only by the warmth in her brown eyes.
Her hair, once a rich shade of brown, now has delicate streaks of silver that only add to her tender frame.
For a long time, neither of them spoke.
Then Miranda sighed. "I knew something was wrong."
Chloe looked up, her voice hoarse. "You did?"
Miranda nodded. "I heard it in your voice when you called. And now, looking at you…" She sighed. "You've been carrying too much, sweetheart."
Chloe swallowed hard, she didn't trust herself to speak, didn't trust herself not to break down again.
"Tell me everything." Her mother urged.
And so, she did.
She told her about Damien. About her father's control. About Sienna and Ryan's betrayal, the loneliness, and the suffocating pressure that never let up.
Miranda listened, her eyes darkening with every word. When Chloe finally fell silent, her mother exhaled slowly, setting her tea aside.
"I should have taken you with me when I left."
Chloe lifted her head blinking rapidly. "Mom…"
Miranda's expression was pained. "I should have fought harder."
"It's okay." Chloe forced a smile, but her mother only shook her head.
"You're hurting." Her mother snapped.
"I'll be fine," Chloe said sharply mixing her teas with her fingers.
"How could Sienna do that to you? With Ryan." Miranda held her chest.
"I don't want to talk about it," Chloe mumbled. She was raised to never be shaken and last night showed everything but that.
She felt weak as she crumbled, as she fell to the ground and she wanted to forget that ever happened.
As if her mother could read her, she interrupted her thoughts.
"Don't let them pull you down, Chloe. Not Sienna. Not Ryan. Not your father. And not Damien Cross."
At the mention of Damien, Chloe's stomach twisted. She was convinced now—he had known exactly who she was all along.
The realization made her chest tighten.
She set her teacup down. The warmth had long since faded, much like the brief comfort she had felt in her mother's arms.
"I should go. It's late."
Miranda studied her as if wanting to say more but was weighing the cost of doing so. Finally, she said, "Be careful with Damien Cross, Chloe, he's more like your father than you realize."
A chill ran through her spine. "What do you mean?"
Her mother's lips pressed together. "Just promise me you'll be careful."
Before Chloe could ask more, her phone vibrated. She glanced at the screen.
It was a text from an unknown number.
Her breath slowed. "Running won't change anything, Chloe. We need to talk." She read the message in a low voice.
Damien. She knew it was him.
Miranda squeezed her hand. "Decide how far you're willing to go. Because once you step into this world—there's no turning back."
Chloe swallowed hard as she gently put her phone in her purse. She ran her shaky hand through her hair, staring at her mother, warm tears sliding down her cheeks.
The smooth confidence. The quiet authority. It had to be him.
Damien Cross wasn't just a one-night mistake anymore.
He was a part of her world now. And she wasn't ready for this world. But she had only begun.