Chapter 7
For days, the Smith estate was in uproar. The once pristine hallways, always echoing with hollow laughter and polite conversation, now vibrated with angry footsteps, slammed doors, and whispered curses that slipped through the walls like poison.
Leo was livid. He paced his study, the heavy curtains drawn tight, drowning the room in shadows that matched the storm brewing in his eyes. Every so often, he would slam his palm down on the mahogany desk, sending papers and crystal trinkets skittering to the floor.
“She dares-she dares do this to me?” he hissed under his breath. “After everything I gave her- she humiliated me! She humiliated this family!”
Across the room, his butler stood stiffly, head bowed. “Sir, we’ve checked the train stations airports, her old friends-there is no sign of Mrs. Chloe anywhere. It’s as if she simply vanished.” Leo spun on him, voice cracking with disbelief. “Vanished? No one vanishes, you fool! She has no money, no family-where could she possibly go?”
The butler’s eyes flickered to the side. “I’m afraid, sir… we’ve found nothing.”
Leo’s fist slammed into the desk again. He could already hear the whispers-investors murmuring about the scandal, clients reconsidering their ties to the Smith name. They said he was an abusive father, a cruel patriarch who would sell his daughters for profit and power. Anc now his perfectly crafted image was crumbling-one missing daughter at a time.
Just then, the door opened without a knock. Alynna stood there, hair pinned up in a loose knot, her silk robe brushing against the polished floor as she sauntered in. She wore the face of someone who thought they’d won-until she opened her mouth.
“Father,” she sighed, slipping into the chair across from his desk. “Why are you still making everyone look for her? Chloe left us. She ruined everything. It’s better this way.”
Leo’s head snapped up, eyes glinting dangerously. “Better? Better? My reputation is in ruins because of her! The papers say I’m an abusive tyrant-investors are backing out. And you dare stand here and say this is better?”
Alynna stiffened, her lips twitching into a forced pout. “It’s not my fault. You always blamed me when she messed up-”
‘Don’t,” Leo growled, voice dropping to a low, vicious rumble. “Don’t you dare pin this on anyone out yourself. You were supposed to look out for her, keep her in line. Instead, you were busy fucking her husband behind her back.”
Alynna’s eyes widened, mouth falling open. “How dare you-”
‘Oh, spare me the theatrics,” he spat. “The whole city is laughing at us. At me. You-parading around like you’ve won something. Is it my fault you’re too stupid to hide your tracks? You anc Clinton made a mockery of this family.”
She slammed her palms on the desk, standing so fast her chair scraped back with a shriek. “Don’t blame me! I never meant for this to happen! I didn’t know she’d actually leave-she’s nothing without us! She should have stayed-”
Leo stood too, towering over her, his voice sharp enough to make her flinch. “She needs to come back. She needs to stand in front of those cameras and pretend we’re still the perfect family. She
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will fix this mess she made.”
Alynna’s lip curled. “And if she doesn’t?”
Leo’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching so tight a vein in his neck pulsed with fury. “Then you will. Bring her back, Alynna. Or you will be gone too. I will not keep a daughter who can’t fix her own failures.”
Alynna’s breath caught. She turned her face away, rage simmering under her skin like acid. But rather than obey him, she stalked out of the room, slamming the door so hard a portrait rattled
on the wall.
Upstairs, she paced her bedroom, nails digging into her palms until they left crescent moons in her skin. Chloe. Always Chloe. Even when she was gone, she was still the stain that wouldn’t
wash out.
She grabbed her phone, her thumb hovering over the messages. A single, poisonous thought coiled around her anger-if Chloe ever came back, she’d ruin her again. Better to bury her for good.
With her heart hammering in her throat, Alynna typed a message she didn’t know if Chloe would
ever read:
Don’t
you dare come back here. Never show your face again. Clinton is mine now-he’s always
been mine.
She hit send, her chest rising and falling in sharp, ragged breaths.
Meanwhile, back at the house Clinton once called home, the silence was maddening. He tore through Chloe’s old dresser drawers, rummaged through closets that still smelled faintly of her shampoo. He found nothing-no hidden letters, no forgotten trinkets. Nothing to prove she’d ever really been his.
His phone buzzed in his palm. He dialed her number again, pressing it to his ear, desperate for
her to answer.
Voicemail. Again.
“Pick up… please…” Clinton’s voice cracked as he sank down on the edge of the bed-her side of the bed. He buried his face in his hands, breath shuddering through clenched teeth.
In the silence that wrapped around him like a noose, he realized it-there would be no quiet. footsteps coming down the hallway, no gentle apology whispered into his neck. No more Chloe
to fix what he’d broken.
The framed wedding photo he’d once hidden on the nightstand now stared back at him from the floor, the glass cracked where he’d thrown it in rage days ago.
His hands trembled as he picked it up, his thumb tracing her smile through the spiderweb of shattered glass.
“I’m sorry…” he whispered, his voice raw, barely human. Tears slipped down his cheeks, landing on the photo like tiny confessions he’d never make out loud.
“Please come back… I’m sorry, Chloe…”
