Chapter 2

Chloe Jenkins was no underprivileged, hardworking intern. That was the lie she sold, and Michael and Ethan bought it wholesale. Her mother, Brenda Jenkins, had a history with my family, a destructive affair with my father years ago that nearly tore our mother apart. Chloe knew exactly who we were, what she was doing. She wasn’t just an intern; she was a predator in sensible shoes, her eyes fixed on everything my family, my mother, had built. But try telling that to Michael or Ethan. They saw a girl struggling, someone they could save, someone who wasn't "privileged" like me. Their blindness was a weapon Chloe wielded with devastating skill.

I realized, after the gala, that fighting back was useless. Every protest I made, every piece of evidence I tried to show them about Chloe’s manipulations, only pushed them further into her carefully constructed web. My anger made me look unhinged. My pain made me look weak. Chloe, in contrast, was always calm, always a little sad, always understanding of my "outbursts." She played the martyr beautifully. So, I stopped fighting. I let a strange sort of calm settle over me. If they wanted Chloe, they could have her. If they wanted to believe her lies, let them. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of watching me break anymore.

The public declaration at the gala was just the start. Ethan made sure everyone knew we were over. He was seen everywhere with Chloe. She’d be clinging to his arm, her face pale and tear-streaked if I happened to be in the same vicinity, a silent accusation. He’d embrace her, a protective gesture that was a public slap in my face. Our once-shared social circle, the people I’d known my whole life, turned cold. Their polite smiles didn’t reach their eyes. Their conversations would stop when I approached. I was an outcast, the bitter ex-fiancée. Chloe was the innocent newcomer, the one Ethan had bravely chosen over the "blue-blooded princess."

A week after the gala, Ethan summoned me to his office. He wanted to "finalize" things, he said. I went, expecting another lecture, another round of accusations. Instead, I found him looking almost… uncertain. "Sarah," he began, then stopped. Chloe was there, of course, perched on the edge of a chair, looking small and frightened. "Ethan just wants to make sure there are no hard feelings," she whispered, her eyes wide. "We’re breaking up, Ethan," I said, my voice even. "I agree." He looked surprised, then suspicious. The brief uncertainty vanished. "You’re not going to make a scene?" he asked, a sneer playing on his lips. "You’re not going to try and ruin Chloe’s reputation like you tried at the gala?" I held up my left hand. The place where his ring used to be was still faintly indented. "No scene, Ethan." I noticed a faint scratch on his cheek, a smudge of lipstick near his collar that wasn't my shade. He’d clearly moved on quickly, or perhaps, he’d already moved on long before the gala. The realization didn’t bring fresh pain, just a dull affirmation of what I already knew. He looked down at my hand, then quickly away. For a split second, I saw something flicker in his eyes – was it guilt? Regret? It was gone as quickly as it came. Chloe Jenkins made sure of that.