Chapter Nine

"You’re calling me Elena now?" Chloe said as she spuned around. Her eyes turned into cold, narrow slits. Just hearing that name—the name of the woman she hated more than anything—seemed to poison the air in the room.

"Shit," Liam muttered. A cold sweat popped up on his forehead. *Big mistake.* He knew he’d just walked right into a trap, and by saying her name, he’d basically handed Chloe the whip to beat him with.

She turned and walked away, fury in her eyes.

"Babe, wait!" he called out. His voice cracked, a mix of panic and desperation. He scrambled after her, stumbling into the house just as she was storming toward the bedroom. Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor like gunshots. She didn't even slow down. She marched straight to the closet, yanked the doors open, and slammed a suitcase onto the bed.

"Babe, stop, please," he begged, reaching out to grab a box she was aggressively stuffing with her things. "We’re in this together, remember? You can’t just walk out the door the second things get a little messy. We’ve built way too much to let one bad night destroy it all."

She shoved him back hard. She had enough strength behind that push to knock the wind right out of him.

"Get out of my way, Liam! I’m done. I am not going down with your sinking ship. Not for you, and definitely not because of her."

"I love you!" he shouted. It was a desperate defense, a shield he hoped would stop her.

"I didn't plan for this, Chloe. I swear on my life, I had no idea she could pull something like this."

He lunged forward, grabbed her wrists, and forced her to look at him. His eyes were bloodshot and wide, filled with a hollow, scary kind of ambition. He didn't look like a man in love anymore; he looked like a man obsessed with winning.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice jagged. He squeezed her wrists so she couldn't pull away.

"I’m sorry I underestimated her. I messed up. But I can fix this. I promise you, I’ll salvage this whole mess. Have I ever let you down before?"

Chloe stared at him, her chest heaving. The silk of her gown rustled as she tried to pull her hands away, but he held firm. Her face was like a mask—cold and empty of the warmth he used to rely on.

"Fix it?" she spat, her voice shaking with pure venom. "How exactly, Liam? By groveling? By acting like an idiot again? You walked into that place like you owned the place, and she ripped you apart in front of every single person who matters. They aren't laughing at you, Liam—they’re laughing at *us*. And I refuse to be the joke."

"No," he said. He pulled her closer and kissed her. It wasn't gentle—it was desperate and almost violent, a frantic attempt to lock her in and drown out the reality that their world was crashing down.

He broke away, gasping for air. "I just need to find out everything about her. Every secret, every contact, every ghost she’s hiding in that pretty head of hers. I’m going to tear her life apart, piece by piece, until I find the one thing that brings her to her knees. Then, we’ll be the ones holding the cards, and the gala will just be a bad memory."

He stared at her, his expression turning cold and calculating. The guy who cared about her feelings was gone, replaced by someone who only cared about winning.

"I’m not losing everything, Chloe. I’m just getting started. If she wants a war, she’s going to get one."

Chloe paused, her hand hovering over a dress she was about to shove into her suitcase. She turned slowly and looked deep into his eyes. There was a long, heavy silence. The air in the room felt heavy, charged with the wreckage of their reputation and a dangerous, shaky promise of a future that felt more like a pact with the devil.

"One last chance, Liam," she whispered. Her voice was low and sharp, missing all the kindness he used to take for granted. "But if you fail again? If you let her make fools of us one more time? I won't just leave you. I will dismantle every single thing you have left. I’ll make sure you never walk in these circles ever again."

Liam let out a long, shaky breath of relief. "Of course, babe. That’s all I need. I love you, and I promise we’re going to come out on top. She won't even see it coming."

He lunged forward, his mouth crushing down onto hers—a kiss that tasted of salt and absolute fury.

"Stop," she choked out, her hands shoving at his shoulders, but the word lacked any real conviction.

"Stop what?" he growled against her skin, his hand sliding down to grip her breast, his touch bruising and deliberate. "This?"

He pushed her back into the mattress, his fingers snagging at the fabric of her skirt, exposing the pale skin of her thighs to the cold air of the room. She gasped, a sound that was half-sob and half-shiver, her resistance dissolving into a frantic, chaotic need.

"Stay with me, Chloe," he commanded, his voice a low, jagged rasp. "And I promise you, Elena will pay."

He kissed her again, deeper this time, his tongue demanding entry as he crowded into her space. They became a blur of limbs, thrashing and tangled in the expensive, rumpled sheets. The air was filled with their ragged, uncoordinated moans, the sounds of two people trying to drown out the world.

She arched into him, her nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, her head thrown back as the friction intensified. "Fuck me hard," she screamed, the sound raw and desperate, fueled by the image of their rival. "As hard as you’re going to take her down! Do it! Make me feel like I’m the only one left!"