Chapter 5

*Luke: "True. You really know how to handle her."*

*Ethan: "Just keep an eye on her. The lounge is packed, make sure she doesn't get into any trouble."*

*Mason texted Ethan: "Man, I wish I could find a girl as loyal, beautiful, and rich as Chloe. I’d die happy."*

*Luke replied to Mason: "You could always shoot your shot now while Ethan’s 'dead.'"*

*Mason: "Hell no, Ethan would literally murder me when he gets back."*

During my years with Ethan, several of his friends had tried to hit on me behind his back. Whenever Ethan found out, he cut them off instantly. But that cheap possessiveness was never loyalty.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a cloud synchronization alert. The locked folder from Lily's old iPad had synced new photos.

Lily had posted a new update: *"23 days left. Today he took me to see the Northern Lights~ Romance at the edge of the world, just for us. 🌌"*

Below, she had replied to her own post using a burner account: *"Why does your man still have to go back? Why can't he just stay with you forever?!"*

Lily's reply: *"He says he still has some responsibilities to handle back home. But it’s fine. Once he wraps things up, we’ll be free."*

Another comment from her burner: *"Some people are just holding onto a spot they don't deserve. So annoying. Wishing you guys eternal happiness!"*

Unbelievable.

Over the past two days, I had stared at these photos and logs repeatedly. The process felt like carving Ethan out of my heart with a dull knife. It hurt, but it worked. Grief was slowly replaced by pure disgust.

Now, looking at their lovey-dovey pictures, I felt nothing but relief that I had escaped.

*Since you love documenting your happiness so much, let’s make sure everyone gets to appreciate it.*

I took screenshots of all the logs and photos and sent them to a close friend who worked as an editor for a prominent business news outlet.

*"I have some juicy gossip about the newly deceased tech rising star, Ethan Sinclair. I think your readers would love it."*

I had a few too many drinks at the lounge and didn't get back to the penthouse until late.

The alcohol had dulled my senses. I didn't notice the "Under Maintenance" sign hanging on the guest bathroom door. Feeling dizzy, I walked up to the second floor and saw the light on in the master bathroom. The door was slightly open.

Assuming Nova had left it on, I pushed the door open to turn it off.

The sound of running water echoed. Through the frosted glass, I saw the silhouette of a tall, muscular man.

I froze, my mind instantly clearing. I turned to bolt, but my foot slipped on a wet tile.

A wet, muscular arm shot out from behind the glass door, catching me firmly by the waist. The man let out a low grunt as he shut off the water.

"Who's there?"

The glass door slid open. Amidst the rising steam, Julian Harrington stood there. He had nothing but a white towel slung low on his hips. Water droplets ran down his chiseled chest and abs. His dark, piercing eyes locked onto mine.

"Chloe?"

It took me a few seconds to connect the mature, ridiculously built, and intimidating man in front of me with the quiet, aloof boy from high school.

"I... I'm sorry. The guest bathroom had a sign on it, and I thought no one was here..." I stammered, my wrist still caught in his firm grip.

His grip loosened instantly. His throat bobbed as he grabbed a dark silk robe, throwing it over his shoulders. He looked away. "You can use this bathroom. I’ll use the guest one."

Nova had told me he never came here. I didn't expect...

"Nova lent me this place. I didn't know you were coming back tonight," I explained, looking down. I realized the strap of my silk slip dress had slid down my shoulder during the slip.

Julian, who had already turned his back to put on pair of sweatpants, answered in a low, even voice. "It’s fine. You can stay. I have a project in the city, so I’ll be dropping by occasionally. If you feel uncomfortable..."

"I don't," I interrupted, pulling my strap back up. "This is your place. I'm the one intruding."

HiHis hand paused as he tied his sweatpants. "I should have let you know. Goodnight."

With that, he grabbed his clothes and walked out, heading to the guest room at the end of the hall.