CHAPTER SEVEN- The cute stranger

CHLOE POV

My face burned with a sharp, blistering sting. The impact sent my head snapping to the side, the harsh sound echoing off the cold concrete walls of the dim stairwell.

For a second, the world went completely silent.

I slowly brought my hand up to touch my swollen cheek, my skin hot beneath my trembling fingertips. I stared at Vivian in absolute shock.

"Are you insane?!" I yelled, my voice cracking with pure rage and disbelief. "How dare you slap me!"

Vivian didn't even flinch. She simply stood there, smoothing down the front of her expensive designer dress as if she had just swatted a fly.

"You need to learn your place, Chloe," she said, her voice dropping to a icy, dangerous whisper.

"My place?" I let out a harsh, bitter laugh, tears of anger stinging the corners of my eyes. "You have the nerve to talk to me about my place? You’re the one sleeping with a guy two times younger than you! And worst of all, he’s your own stepdaughter’s boyfriend! You are disgusting! How shameless can you possibly be?"

The words tore out of my mouth before I could stop them. I took a step closer to her, my hands clenched into tight fists at my sides.

"Is that why you slapped me?" I demanded, leaning in. "Are you scared, Vivian? Are you terrified because I was about to walk out that door and tell my father the absolute truth about what a fake, disgusting cheat, you really are?"

For a second, I thought the truth would break her composure. I thought she would panic, plead, or beg me to stay quiet.

Instead, Vivian tilted her head back and burst into a loud, mocking laugh. The sharp sound vibrated against the walls, echoing around us like a cruel taunt. She laughed so hard she had to rest a hand against her stomach, mocking me as if I had just told the funniest joke she had ever heard.

"Oh, Chloe..." Vivian finally stopped laughing, wiping a fake tear from the corner of her eye as she looked down at me with pure disdain. "Look at you, talking so big. Do you really think I’m scared of you? I’m not scared at all. In fact, if I were you, I’d be terrified for myself."

My brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"You really don't get it, do you?" Vivian sighed mockingly.

I had no energy left to play her sick games. "I'm done listening to you," I spat, turning on my heel to reach for the heavy metal door handle. "I'm going to find my father."

Before my fingers could touch the cold steel, Vivian moved with terrifying speed. She grabbed my arm and violently slammed me back against the hard concrete wall. The back of my head thudded against the surface, knocking the wind out of my lungs.

Before I could react, Vivian lifted her hand and dug her long, manicured nails firmly into my chin, forcing my head up so I had no choice but to look directly into her ruthless eyes.

"Where do you think you're going?" Vivian hissed, her face inches from mine. "Do you honestly think Richard will believe a single word coming out of your mouth? Where is your evidence, Chloe? Do you have pictures? Video? Audio?"

She squeezed my chin tighter, her nails sinking painfully into my skin.

"You have nothing," she sneered. "Your father knows how much you hate me. He knows you’ve resented me since the day I moved into that house. The second you open your mouth to accuse me, he will just think you're a jealous, spiteful brat trying to ruin his marriage. You will look crazy, and he will throw you out on the street."

Hot tears finally spilled over my eyelashes, tracing burning paths down my cheeks. I struggled against her grip, pushing at her arms, but her hold on my chin was unyielding.

"Let go of me..." I choked out, my voice trembling.

Vivian leaned in closer, her voice dropping into a sinister murmur that made every hair on my arms stand up.

"And besides," Vivian whispered, her cold breath brushing against my ear, "you should really think twice before you play hero. Who do you think was responsible for what happened to your precious mother earlier?"

My heart stopped. The blood in my veins turned to ice.

I froze completely, staring at her in horror. "What... what did you say?"

A slow, sickening smile spread across Vivian’s lips. "You heard me. Her little episode this morning? Her sudden drop in health? One small slip up from you, Chloe... one wrong word to your father... and your mother might not survive her next 'relapse'. Equipment fails all the time in hospitals. Drips get mixed up. It's so easy for tragic accidents to happen."

"You... you monster," I choked out, my entire body shaking with terror. "You wouldn't..."

"Try me," Vivian whispered maliciously. "The doctor was talking about miracles earlier, right? He said only a miracle could save her now. Well, maybe the miracle he was talking about is me. Because as long as you keep your mouth shut and stay in line, I might just let her live."

She released my chin so suddenly that my head snapped back. I slumped against the wall, hyperventilating, my chest heaving as tears blurred my vision completely. I was completely speechless, paralyzed by the sheer evil standing right in front of me. She had trapped me in a nightmare I couldn't escape.

Vivian gave me one last dismissive glance, casually adjusting her diamond ring.

"Have a nice day, my sweet stepdaughter," she said sweetly, as if we had just been discussing the weather.

She turned on her high heels, pushed open the heavy fire door, and walked out, leaving me alone in the freezing, dark stairwell.

I sank down onto the cold floor, pulling my knees to my chest as quiet, broken sobs racked my body. I couldn't tell my father. I couldn't tell anyone. If I said anything, she would kill my mother. I was completely powerless.

It took me nearly twenty minutes to pull myself together. I wiped my face with the back of my sleeve, forced my breathing to slow down, and dragged myself back out into the main hospital hallway.

As I walked toward the exit, my head hanging low, I heard a familiar voice call out.

"Chloe!"

I stopped and turned around. My father was walking toward me, slipping his phone back into his suit pocket. He looked at me, noticing my pale skin and red eyes, though he showed no real concern.

"What was it you wanted to say to me earlier?" Richard asked, his tone brisk and impatient. "Before Vivian took you away? You said it was urgent."

I opened my mouth to speak.

Tell him, a voice inside me screamed. Tell him everything!

But then I saw Vivian standing a few feet behind him near the reception desk. She caught my eye, a subtle, dark smile playing on her lips as she lightly tapped her manicured fingers against her purse. Her cruel words echoed in my ears like a death sentence.

One slip up from you could lead to the death of your mother...

The words died in my throat. The heavy weight in my chest expanded until I could barely breathe.

"It's... it's nothing, Dad," I whispered, looking down at my shoes. "It wasn't important."

Richard let out an annoyed huff. "You made a scene in front of the doctor over nothing? You really need to grow up, Chloe."

He turned and walked back toward Vivian, wrapping his arm around her waist as she offered him a soft, loving smile.

I turned away and walked out of the hospital, my heart heavier than it had ever been in my entire life.

The next morning, the sun rose as if nothing had happened, casting a bright, cheerful light through the floor-to-ceiling windows of our dining room.

I sat at the long mahogany table, staring down at my untouched plate of eggs and toast. Opposite me sat Vivian and Elena, both dressed in immaculate morning wear, chatting softly with my father about an upcoming charity gala. They laughed, passed the orange juice, and smiled at each other—acting like the perfect, happy family.

It was sickening. Watching them pretend to be angels while holding my mother’s life in their hands made me want to throw up. I didn't say a single word. I just kept my head down, grabbed my bag, and slipped out the door before anyone could address me.

When I arrived at school, the atmosphere was no better.

As soon as I walked through the main gates of the campus, the usual whispers began. Students gathered in small groups along the courtyard, pointing at me and sneering.

"Look, there she is," a girl whispered loudly as I walked past.

"Did you see her yesterday?" another guy laughed, shoving his hands into his varsity jacket. "Look at her walking around like she owns the place. She’s such a fat pig."

"Honestly, Julian was so right to dump her," a girl with bright pink lipstick sneered, crossing her arms. "She’s just a useless, clingy ex who can't take a hint. It's embarrassing."

I tightened my grip on the straps of my backpack and ducked my head, hurrying down the crowded hallway. I forced myself to tune out their voices, repeating a mantra in my head over and over: Just get to class. Just make it through the day.

When I finally reached my classroom, I pulled open the door, hoping to find a few minutes of quiet before the lecture started. But the moment I stepped inside, my heart sank.

My assigned desk in the middle row was completely ruined.

The wooden surface had been viciously vandalized with bright red permanent marker. Cruel write-ups were scribbled all over it in large, messy letters:

FAT PIG.

DESPERATE LOSER.

JULIAN’S TRASH.

WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?

A few students already sitting in the back row giggled, watching me with amused eyes as I stood frozen in front of my desk.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, refusing to let them see me cry. Taking a deep breath, I pulled a package of wet wipes from my bag and knelt beside my desk. I began scrubbing at the harsh red ink with everything I had, my hands trembling with every stroke.

Suddenly, a loud commotion erupted from the hallway outside.

"Oh my god!" a girl shrieked from the corridor.

Scuffling feet and excited gasps echoed through the building. The students sitting in my classroom instantly stood up, pushing their chairs back and running toward the door to see what was happening.

"Who is that?!"

"Wait, is that really him?"

"Oh my god, he is so hot!"

"Is he coming this way? Look at his jawline!"

The hallway filled with the frantic chatter of dozens of girls, their voices squealing with delight. I could hear the distinct sound of blushing giggles and hushed, breathless whispers spreading like wildfire through the crowd.

I stopped scrubbing the desk, my brows furrowing in confusion. What was going on? Why was everyone freaking out?

Curiosity finally got the better of me. I threw the dirty wipe into the trash can and stepped out of the classroom.

The hallway was a sea of bodies. Dozens of students were pushing and shoving against each other, all trying to get a glimpse of whoever was walking down the corridor.

"Excuse me," I mumbled, trying to see over the heads of the crowd. "Sorry, let me through..."

I tried to step around a group of tall varsity players who were blocking the path, but someone behind me pushed forward aggressively. My foot caught on the edge of a locker frame, and I lost my balance completely.

"Whoa!" I gasped, stumbling blindly into the center of the hallway.

I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the hard, painful impact of the cold tiled floor.

Instead of hitting the ground, I slammed hard into a broad, solid chest.

Strong, firm arms instantly wrapped around my waist, catching me effortlessly before I could fall. The sharp, expensive scent of dark cedar, vanilla, and fresh rain enveloped my senses instantly.

My hands instinctively pressed against his chest for support, feeling the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart beneath a crisp, tailored shirt. My forehead rested directly against the warm fabric of his chest.

The entire hallway went dead silent. The squealing, the whispering, and the rushing footsteps instantly stopped.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I slowly lifted my head to see whose chest I had just fallen into.