Chapter 2

Standing outside the hospital room, Kaleb looked through the glass window.

Khloe was propped up against the headboard while Diego fed her broth. The woman who was usually so cold and resistant toward him was now allowing someone else to get close to her.

When Diego saw him, he hurried to his feet. "I'll go get some warm water."

"There's no need. The caregiver can take care of that." Khloe stopped him, her gaze settling on Kaleb's face. "What are you here for? If you don't think I've suffered enough this time, I can always do it again."

Kaleb heard the sarcasm in her voice but showed no expression. He opened the folder in his hands. "Besides being your husband, I'm also a director of the company. These projects need your signature."

Khloe hadn't expected that response. Frowning, she took the pen from him.

Diego tried to mediate. "Kaleb, Khloe was just being childish. The doctor said she's out of danger, so there's no need for you two to keep fighting."

As Khloe signed the last page, Kaleb took back the documents and curved his lips into a faint smile. "Then I have you to thank for taking such good care of her. I'll have my assistant pay you double the caregiver's wages."

Khloe's expression darkened. "You!"

Kaleb didn't look at her again. He turned and walked away.

There was too much to handle at the company, and he practically lived in his office, surrounded by pages of figures and contractual clauses.

It wasn't until a sharp pain shot through his back and the base of his neck that he couldn't help drawing in a sharp breath.

That day in the study, when he caught Khloe, his back had struck the corner of the desk. At the time, he had felt only a dull ache. Then one thing after another happened, and he completely forgot about the injury.

His phone vibrated once on the desk. A message from Jeannie appeared on the screen.

[Khloe is being discharged today. Where are you? What kind of husband doesn't even show his face? What will people think?]

Scrolling up, he found plenty more accusations of the same kind.

[You've been married for years without a single sign of a child. What kind of husband are you?]

[Your own wife doesn't even like you. Being a man and ending up like this is truly pathetic.]

In the past, whenever he read messages like these, he would feel wronged and complain to Khloe. All he would get in return was a dismissive response.

"She's my mother. Just put up with a few comments from her. It'll pass."

Kaleb turned off the screen, placed the phone facedown on the desk, and returned his attention to the computer.

The Allen Group was holding a celebration gala for its newly completed commercial complex.

Kaleb hadn't intended to attend, but several influential figures in the industry would be there. It was a good opportunity for the Monroe Group.

Yet the moment he entered the venue, he saw what looked like a family of three. Khloe was holding Diego's daughter, Lilah Dougherty, her expression unusually gentle.

Someone who didn't know the situation approached them with a wineglass and a smile.

"Ms. Allen, is this your husband? You're a perfect match. You two look wonderful together, and your relationship is enviable."

Diego looked surprised and repeatedly waved his hands, but he only pressed his lips together without explaining anything.

Khloe didn't respond to the assumption. She simply introduced him naturally. "This is Diego Dougherty, the owner of Riverbend Gallery. He's highly accomplished in the arts. If any of you are interested in art investments or collecting, you can speak with him."

The man immediately understood and began showering Diego with compliments.

Kaleb, however, remembered the unfair contract terms he'd seen at his parents' house and let out a quiet scoff.

The sound wasn't loud, but it made the atmosphere suddenly awkward. Diego instinctively moved half a step closer to Khloe.

Kaleb's gaze met hers. He quickly looked away, turned, and walked over to several senior figures in the industry who were already deep in conversation. He joined them.

The influential executives were very interested in the Monroe Group's latest experimental data and asked him several questions.

In the past, whenever Khloe was present at an event, he would either cling to her to make it clear she was his wife or seethe privately when she ignored him. He had never realized there could be any other kind of enjoyment to be had at such gatherings.

After a lengthy discussion, Kaleb secured the preliminary terms of a potential partnership. They agreed to discuss the details later. He nodded politely and prepared to step out onto the terrace for some air.

He had just turned around when he nearly bumped into someone. Khloe had appeared behind him without his noticing.

"Is something wrong?" Kaleb looked up.

His two cool words left Khloe momentarily at a loss for a response. After a pause, she said, "Diego's gallery is still in its early stages. He needs resources right now."

And what did that have to do with him? Was she trying to explain herself to him?

He gave her a puzzled look, murmured an acknowledgment, and prepared to leave.

But she spoke again. "What's wrong with the back of your neck?"

Kaleb stopped as if her words had pinned him in place.

How unusual.

That was the first thought that came to him, and it made the situation feel all the more ironic.

For seven years, when he sprained his ankle and limped along behind her, she hadn't even glanced his way.

Now that he had finally given up and turned to leave, she had suddenly deigned to notice the small bruise peeking out at the back of his neck.

Kaleb closed his eyes, unwilling to say anything more. Just then, Diego came running over in a panic.

"Khloe, Lilah is missing!"