Emily
I recognized the sound of her heels before I saw her. The rhythm was unmistakable: deliberate, attention–seeking, and perfectly timed for the lull in conversation that always came just before dessert was served.
I didn’t have to turn my head to know Chloe had arrived.
The brunch was meant to be low–key, a charity event hosted by one of Logan’s allied Packs with just enough press to make it useful.
I’d worn pale blue, simple lines, and a fitted waist. Professional, approachable. Safe.
Chloe, of course, wore crimson.
She swept through the garden like the lead in a movie that no one had agreed to watch but suddenly couldn’t look away from.
Her dress hugged every curve, her smile was practiced to perfection, and her hair gleamed like something out of a dream. Or a nightmare.
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” she said brightly as she approached. Not to me, to Logan. She barely glanced in my direction.
“I wasn’t aware you’d returned to the city,” Logan said coolly. His tone wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cutting either. Neutral. Formal.
“I’m in town on business,” she replied, flicking her gaze over me as though appraising a moderately interesting painting. “I’ve joined one of the allied firms in your network. A consulting role.”
Of course she had.
Logan’s brow lifted slightly. “That wasn’t cleared through my office.”
She laughed, airily. “It’s an external contract. I’m just passing through, really.”
She angled her body subtly, shifting to close the distance between them without technically breaching any etiquette. “But it’s good to see you. You’ve been… busy.”
I held my smile steady as my nails bit into the palm of my hand beneath the linen tablecloth.
Busy. That was one word for it.
“I’ve heard so much about your recent projects,” Chloe continued. “The public loves a good redemption arc,
don’t they?”
She finally looked at me, her eyes bright with feigned innocence. “You’ve really managed to make something of yourself, Emily. I mean that.”
My stomach twisted. Complements from Chloe were never positive
“I’m sure you’re very busy too,” I replied evenly. “Consulting sounds… demanding.”
She gave a mock–sheepish smile. “Oh, you know me. Always eager to help where I’m needed.”
“How lucky for the firm that hired you,” I said, sipping my water. They must be thrilled to have someone with so much… social experience.”
Chloe’s eyes sparkled like glass about to break. “It’s not so different from what you do, really. Just a different kind of presentation. Though I suppose yours involves more… restraint.”
She leaned in, voice dripping in condescension. “Still, it’s nice to see you found your place. Even if someone had to hand it to you.”
Logan glanced between us. I could see the slight tick in his jaw, the way his fingers drummed once against his glass before he
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caught himself. But he said nothing.
Istood. “Excuse me.”
I didn’t wait for permission or acknowledgment. I walked away from the table with calm, careful steps, ignoring the sudden pressure in my chest.
I found an unused sitting room in the main house, one with too many mirrors and too little warmth.
The quiet was a relief.
My hands shook as I gripped the edge of the windowsill, breathing in deep through my nose and out through my mouth.
I could still hear her voice in my head, that particular cadence Chloe used when she wanted to ruin you without breaking the rules.
I yanked at the zipper of my dress, catching the fabric by mistake. The sound of the tear stopped me cold. I froze, staring at the rip like it had betrayed me.
“Get it together,” I whispered to myself. “You’re not fifteen anymore.”
But gods, it felt like I was.
Chloe’s presence wasn’t the threat, it was what it represented. That the past wasn’t behind me. That no matter how far climbed, she’d always find a way to reach where I was and try to drag me back down.
To take everything that was mine.
I stood there a moment longer, breathing hard, eyes stinging.
Then I adjusted the zipper, smoothed the fabric, and forced myself back to center.
She wasn’t going to take from me again.
Not this time.
Third Person
Chloe smiled as she stirred her tea, but the curve of her lips was more habit than happiness.
Her mother, Hannah, seated across from her in a high–backed velvet chair, barely looked up from her cup.
The room was all crystal vases and delicate harp music, a stage Chloe had outgrown years ago, but still, it served a purpose. Like everything else.
“Accept the match,” her mother said, voice clipped. “You’re running out of excuses.”
Chloe’s spoon paused mid–stir. “He’s old.”
“He’s powerful,” her mother snapped. “And generous. He can secure your position in a way to Alpha–in–training ever will- especially not one who already belongs to someone else.”
Chloe’s jaw flexed. “Belongs is a strong word.”
“Don’t be naive. Titanfang won’t tolerate scandal from a Luna, dormant or not. You’re losing ground, Chloe. And your father and I won’t entertain your stalling much longer.”
The conversation ended without ceremony. As per usual. Her mother rose, smoothed her skirts, and left Chloe alone with her cooling tea and simmering rage.
Chloe hadn’t cried in years but she wanted to. But her mind turned sharp and fast, cutting through her options.
Michael was useless now, off courting some Alpha’s daughter with a fortune and a strong wolf.
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Emily had outmaneuvered her with pity and press and Logan’s protective gaze.
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And now, they wanted to tie her to a man twice her age, who was supposed to be Emily’s punishment not hers. He had heavy hands and heavier expectations.
No. She wouldn’t be bartered off like cattle. Not if she could help it
Which was why, ten minutes later, Chloe appeared, seemingly by accident, at one of the Titanfang estate’s lesser–known garden paths.
Reid was alone, walking the perimeter with the kind of restless air she remembered. Logan’s stepbrother. The second son. The overlooked one.
She timed her steps perfectly.
“Oh,” she said, letting surprise color her voice. “I didn’t expect to see anyone out here.”
Reid looked up, mild curiosity flickering in his expression. “Chloe Blackwood.”
“Guilty.” She laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You remember me?”
He arched a brow. “Hard to forget.”
She smiled wider, closing the distance with a few slow steps. “You and I actually have something in common, you know”
Oh?” he asked, politely disinterested.
“Step–siblings,” she said, letting the word land gently. “Ones who never really let us forget our place.”
That caught his attention. Reid’s gaze sharpened, into something measured. Calculated.
Chloe didn’t push too hard. She let the words hover. Let him imagine what else they might have in common and what doors they might open for each other if they aligned.
“I always thought we got a bit of the short end,” she continued. “Living in someone else’s shadow, while being expected to smile and keep quiet.”
He didn’t respond immediately. But his stance relaxed. Just slightly. It was enough.
She gave him one last, subtle look before stepping past him with deliberate ease. “Enjoy your walk, Reid.”
He watched her go, and Chloe didn’t have to turn around to know it.
This wasn’t yet a victory. But the game had begun.
