Chapter 10

Chloe pushed the door open and stepped into the familiar warmth of her sister's house. The air smelled of boiling flour and steam. Olivia was already a blur of motion in the kitchen, her back to the door as she stirred a large pot of pasta. The frantic pace of her movements suggested she had been working for some time, despite the early hour. "I made breakfast," Chloe said, setting the bags she carried onto the counter. "You don't need to cook that now." Olivia jumped slightly, turning around with a weary smile. Her eyes were rimmed with red, the telltale sign of a woman who had barely slept. "Oh, Chloe. You're early. I ended up waking up late because of Leo, and everything just spiraled." "Did you eat yet?" Chloe asked, already reaching for plates. Olivia shook her head, pulling a hand through her unkempt hair. "No. Your brother-in-law already left. He had to grab breakfast from the shop on his way to work, and he wasn't too happy about it. He spent ten minutes blaming me for not doing anything all day. He said I could have at least made him a sandwich instead of just sitting around with the baby." Chloe's hands stilled on the ceramic plates. A surge of hot anger tightened her chest. "He blamed you? Leo was sick, Olivia. How can he say you do nothing?" "Leo had a fever through the night," Olivia explained, her voice cracking with the weight of the morning's argument. "I was up every two hours checking his temperature. By the time he finally settled, it was dawn, and I oversleep by thirty minutes and suddenly I'm the most useless person in the house." She leaned against the counter, looking smaller than Chloe remembered. "You should take Leo to the doctor later," Chloe suggested, trying to keep her voice steady despite the frustration bubbling inside her. "Even if he seems better now, it's better to be safe. I can't believe he didn't lend a hand. To yell at you when the baby is unwell—it's heartless." Olivia didn't defend him this time. She sank into the sofa in the living area, her shoulders slumped. Chloe brought the breakfast over, and Olivia began to unwrap the food with trembling fingers, eating with a mechanical, hollow hunger. "Is he still going on about the expenses?" Chloe asked, sitting across from her. "The splitting?" Olivia swallowed a bite of bread and nodded slowly. "Every single day. He keeps saying that I just spend money and don't contribute anything to the household. He tells me I have no idea about the 'real world' pressures he faces at the office. He's insisted that as part of the family, I should be helping with the costs. Fifty-fifty." Chloe looked around the well-kept home. "You were a financial chief, Olivia. You earned more than he ever has before you resigned to take care of his home and his son. How can he forget that?" "He hasn't forgotten. His sister reminds him every chance she gets," Olivia said wearily. "He used to treat me so well, Chloe. You saw it. But his sister has completely spoiled that. She whispers in his ear that a woman who stays home is a parasite." Chloe knew the history all too well. Olivia had climbed the corporate ladder with a ferocity that had made their family proud, earning a high salary and securing their future. She had made every sacrifice for love, giving up the career she'd built to manage a household that was now being turned into a debt trap. Olivia had dedicated every cent of her savings to this home, to their life together. Now, she was reduced to making her own clothing purchases with the small amounts of money Chloe gifted her for birthdays and holidays. Even those small comforts weren't safe. "Does his sister still make a scene about your clothes?" "Every time," Olivia whispered. "If I buy a new lipstick or a blouse with the money you give me, his parents and his sister act like I'm stealing from the family coffers. They've started saying that any money you give me should be considered a 'shared asset' with my husband. They think I have no right to use it for myself." Chloe felt a pang of guilt. When she lived here, she had taken on every chore she could—scrubbing floors, doing laundry, meal prepping—just to lighten Olivia's load so she wouldn't have to face her husband's scrutiny. Now that Chloe was gone, Olivia was facing the full brunt of the domestic labor and the emotional abuse alone. "Enroll Leo in kindergarten," Chloe said firmly, leaning forward. "Do it now. Restart your career. You're brilliant, Olivia. You'd be making more than he does within a year, and then let's see him talk about 'contributions.'" Olivia looked wistful, her eyes drifting to the hallway where Leo was still sleeping. "I want to. I want to go back so badly. But he won't hear of it. He says we have to wait until Leo is much older. He says the family financial burdens are too high right now—the car loan, the mortgage, the money he sends for his parents' care. He says we can't afford the tuition, and he wants a 'proper' mother at home." Chloe watched her sister's tired face. The logic didn't add up. If money was so tight that they had to split the cost of groceries, wouldn't a second income be a blessing? "Olivia," Chloe said, her voice dropping to a serious tone. "The way he's treating you... it's getting worse. Do you think there's someone else? Is he seeing another woman?" Olivia let out a dry, mirthless laugh. "A mistress? With what money? He complains about the price of milk every morning. He doesn't have the income to maintain a secret life, Chloe. He's just... changed." "It's not just about money," Chloe warned. "It's about respect. If you stay a stay-at-home mom without your own income, you're making yourself completely vulnerable to his whims. He's losing respect for you because he thinks you have nowhere else to go. You need to protect yourself." Olivia waved a hand, deflecting the heavy conversation. She straightened her posture, trying to force a bit of cheer into her expression. "Let's not talk about my mess anymore. Tell me about you. How is the new house? How is your husband treating you?" Chloe blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the shift. "He's... fine. He's very busy. He's actually on a business trip right now, and it might take some time before he's back properly." "And the apartment in Briarwood?" Olivia asked, searching Chloe's face for any sign of regret. "Are you adjusting okay? I've been so worried that you moved out too fast just to get away from the tension here." "I'm adjusting well, really," Chloe reassured her. "It's quiet. I have space to think." Seeing Olivia relax at the news was the only thing that kept Chloe from pushing the issue of the kindergarten again. They spent the next hour quietly tidying up and checking on Leo. Once the boy was awake and eating his breakfast, Olivia nudged Chloe toward the door. "Go on, get to the shop," Olivia said. "You've done enough here. Don't let me keep you from your work." Chloe nodded, her mind still heavy with the images of Olivia's strained marriage. As she hopped onto her e-bike and began the trek toward the bookstore in Riverbend, her thoughts were a mile away. She pictured the mortgage statements, the car loans, and the sneering face of her brother-in-law. She wondered how a man who once promised to cherish her sister could turn into a stranger who counted every penny of bread. She was so deep in thought that she didn't notice the change in traffic patterns as she approached the main intersection. The flash of black paint and polished chrome only registered at the last second. A massive, luxurious Monarch sedan was turning into the lane. Chloe gasped, her eyes snapping to the road. She was on a direct collision course with the side of the vehicle. Panic spiked in her throat as she swerved violently, her tires skidding against the pavement. She slammed on her brakes, the e-bike shuddering as it came to a screeching halt inches from the car's rear door. The Monarch stopped abruptly, its engine a low, powerful hum. Behind it, a line of identical luxury sedans—a motorcade of bodyguards—came to a synchronized halt. In a neighborhood like Riverbend, high-end cars weren't rare, but a fleet like this carried a different kind of weight. Heart hammering against her ribs, Chloe looked toward the tinted windows. She couldn't see inside, but she felt the weight of a dozen eyes on her. She quickly raised a hand in an apologetic gesture, bowing her head slightly toward the driver's side. She didn't want a lecture or a police report; she just wanted to disappear. Without waiting for the driver to roll down a window, she kicked her e-bike back into gear and sped away, weaving through the halted traffic and disappearing down a side street toward the shop. Inside the Monarch, the atmosphere was frozen. Noah Hayes sat in the back, his gaze fixed on the retreating figure of the woman on the bike. He had watched the whole thing unfold—the way she had been staring into space, her mind clearly miles away, and the frantic, desperate swerve that had barely saved her from a trip to the hospital. He felt a tightening in his chest that he couldn't quite name. Concern, perhaps, or a sharp flicker of annoyance. She was riding mindlessly on a busy street, putting herself in danger. The driver glanced into the rearview mirror, his voice steady but informative. "Sir, that was... that was Mrs. Hayes. Chloe." Noah didn't look away from the spot where she had vanished. He remained silent, his jaw tightening as he processed the fact that his wife had nearly been crushed by his own car because she was too distracted to look at the road. ════════════════════════════════════════