CHAPTER TWO- The shock of my life

CHLOE POV

Today was our one-year anniversary. One whole year of being Julian Hayes' girlfriend. Despite how he treated me, despite the snide comments and the public embarrassment, I clung to him. I had to.

My biological mother, Lilian, had been in a coma since I was five years old following a terrible car accident. My father, Richard, was the busy CEO of Hart Logistics and was barely ever home, completely distant from my life. My stepmother, Vivian, and my stepsister, Elena, ruled our house like a personal dictatorship, constantly mocking my weight and reminding me that I was a second-class citizen in my own family.

Julian was my anchor. He was the only person who belonged to me, even if he was a terrible anchor. I convinced myself that if I just tried harder, if I became better, he would finally love me the way I desperately needed to be loved.

So, I decided to make it right. I spent the entire afternoon in the kitchen, losing myself in the familiar rhythm of baking. I measured the flour, whisked the eggs, and carefully baked a beautiful, multi-layered chocolate cake from scratch. I decorated it with smooth vanilla frosting, writing Happy Anniversary across the top in perfect script.

By the time I was finished, the sun had set, and a heavy rainstorm was beginning to batter the windows of the city.

I packed the cake into a protective carrier, grabbed my umbrella, and drove over to Julian's family penthouse downtown. He usually stayed there over the weekends instead of his campus apartment. I had a spare key that he had given me months ago—though he had warned me never to use it without permission.

But that wasn't all. Beside me was a limited edition sneaker, Julian had been obsessed with for months. To buy them, I had emptied my entire savings account. Every single dollar I had saved from birthdays, small chores, and secret allowances over the past three years was completely gone.

My bank account was sitting at zero. But as I stared at the pristine, flawless leather of those shoes, I didn't care about the money. All I could picture was his reaction.

The elevator dinged, and I stepped out into the quiet, dimly lit hallway of the penthouse, I couldn't help but imagine our sweet anniversary night together.

In my mind, Julian would open the shoe box and his jaw would drop in absolute shock. His eyes would light up with that rare, brilliant smile he so rarely shared with me. He would look at the shoes, then look up at me, his eyes filled with tears of joy.

He would throw his arms around me, pulling me into a tight, warm hug that lifted my feet off the ground, whispering: "Thank you, Chloe. You are the best girlfriend in the world. I love you."

Finally, I gently pushed the key into the lock, turning it with a soft click.

The apartment was silent, the lights off and the weather cool for a romantic night with my man.

"Julian?" I called out softly, stepping inside and kicking off my wet shoes.

There was no answer. But as I walked further into the living room, setting the cake carrier down on the kitchen island, I noticed a trail of clothes on the floor.

A pair of familiar hockey sweatpants.

And next to them... a silk, emerald-green robe.

My heart did a strange, violent flip in my chest. That robe didn't belong to a college girl. It looked expensive. Mature.

A soft, muffled laugh echoed from the end of the hallway, coming straight from Julian’s bedroom. It was followed by a low, deep chuckle that I recognized instantly. It was Julian.

My feet felt heavy, like they were trapped in wet cement, but a sudden, terrifying instinct pushed me forward. I walked down the carpeted hallway, the air growing thick and suffocating with every step I took. The bedroom door was cracked open, a sliver of warm light spilling out onto the floor.

Another laugh. This one was high, breathy, and dripping with a dangerous, familiar sweetness.

"Oh, Julian, stop," the female voice whispered, giggling. "Isn't today your one year anniversary with your fat girlfriend?”

"I don't have a girlfriend," Julian’s voice replied, sounding deeper, more breathless than I had ever heard it. "My dad is out of town, and that fat whale Chloe is probably crying into a tub of ice cream right now. And she wouldn't dare come to my place without informing me first."

I stopped right outside the door. My breath caught in my throat. Everywhere seemed blurry, the sound of the pouring rain outside completely fading away, replaced by the roaring of blood in my ears.

Slowly, trembling so hard I could barely keep my balance, I reached out and pushed the door open a few more inches.

The light from the bedside lamp illuminated the room perfectly.

Julian was on the bed, his back arched, his hands gripping the hips of the woman beneath him. The sheets were thrown wildly to the side.

And the woman looking up at him, her long dark hair spread across the pillows, her elegant features twisted in pleasure, wasn't a classmate. It wasn't Scarlett.

It was Vivian.

My own stepmother.

Vivian’s eyes were closed, a seductive smile on her face as she wrapped her arms tighter around my boyfriend’s neck. The very same woman who had played the role of my devoted caretaker after my mother’s accident, the woman who married my father and pretended to be a loving socialite, was currently tangled in the sheets with the eighteen-year-old boy who was supposed to love me.

The shock hit me like a physical blow to the chest, stealing all the oxygen from my lungs. My hands lost all their strength.

Thud.

My elbow knocked against the heavy wooden doorframe, causing the door to swing open entirely.

The sound cut through the heavy atmosphere of the room like a knife.

In an instant, the movement stopped. Julian froze, his head snapping toward the doorway. Vivian’s eyes flew open, her gaze locking directly onto mine.

What are you doing here? Get out now!!!!!