Chapter 2
Andrew fell silent for three seconds.
Then he laughed, cold and mocking, as if I'd told the world's funniest joke. "Done?" he repeated.
He reached out to pinch my face, but I turned my head away. His hand froze in mid-air, and his expression turned dark.
"Charlotte, you've gotten bold," he said. "In ten years, you've said this at least eighty times. When have you ever followed through?"
He was certain I couldn't leave him, like a dog couldn't leave its master.
I didn't bother arguing with him anymore. I dragged my suitcase around him and headed for the door.
He didn't stop me this time.
Behind me, I heard him laugh coldly. "Let's see how long you last without me."
I walked out of the villa without looking back.
Outside, a black Bentley Mulsanne sat waiting under the streetlight.
The window lowered, revealing Gabriel's sharp features.
When he saw me, he unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the car. He took the suitcase from my hand and placed it in the trunk, the movement smooth and natural.
"Everything settled?" he asked.
"Yeah."
He opened the car door for me, his palm hovering above my head to shield me from the frame. It was a small gesture, thoughtful and protective—something I'd never received from Andrew.
The car pulled away smoothly.
In the rearview mirror, Andrew's figure grew smaller and smaller. He stood there, motionless, watching us leave.
He probably thought I'd come crawling back soon.
Gabriel had arranged a downtown penthouse for me.
The minimalist decor featured cool tones throughout, perfectly matching his aesthetic.
He gestured toward the master bedroom. "This is your room. Let me know if you need anything."
"Separate rooms?" I asked, surprised.
He raised an eyebrow. "What else would you expect? We have a contract marriage, Ms. Evans. I'm not going to take advantage of the situation."
He paused before adding, "Of course, when we need to play the happy couple in public, I'll give you advance notice."
His sense of boundaries put me at ease.
I felt myself relax.
I'd decided to cut ties with my past, but I wasn't ready to dive into a new intimate relationship.
Gabriel's clear boundaries made me feel safe.
The next day, I woke up naturally, without an alarm.
Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, filling the room with warmth.
For the first time in ten years, I didn't have to drag myself out of bed at six in the morning to cook Andrew breakfast.
My phone buzzed with a message from Andrew. Just two words: [Come back.]
His tone was commanding, as if my obedience was a given. I blocked his number without hesitation.
Finally, silence.
I made myself a simple breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, then settled onto the couch to search for information about art school admissions.
I would reclaim everything Andrew had stolen from me, one piece at a time.
That afternoon, my mother, Rachel Evans, called.
The moment I picked up, she tore into me.
"Charlotte!" she shouted. "Have you lost your mind? You moved out on Andrew? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"
Rachel's voice shrilled through the phone, sharp enough to pierce my eardrums.
"Do you have any idea how important the Quinn family is to us?" she demanded. "Your father died young, and if the Quinns hadn't helped us, you and I would've been homeless and starving!
"Now you've gotten too big for your britches, throwing tantrums at Andrew?" Her voice rose higher. "I'm ordering you right now to get back there and apologize to him!"
I held the phone away from my ear and waited for her tirade to end.
The same speech, every time.
The Quinn family had helped us, that much was true.
But whatever debt we owed them, I'd paid it back ten times over after spending a decade waiting on Andrew like a servant.
"Mom," I said, keeping my voice level. "I'm not going back."
"You—" Rachel sputtered, choking on her rage. "You ungrateful daughter! You'd throw away your own mother for some man?"
I smiled.
"Mom, have you forgotten?" I asked. "You and Dad were the ones who told me from childhood that I had to marry Andrew. You were the ones who pushed me into this."
Silence filled the line.
I ended the call before she could launch into her usual routine of tears and accusations.
Gabriel returned home that evening carrying a document folder.
He handed it to me. "Take a look at this."
I opened it to find an invitation to a business event scheduled for next week. The recipient line read: [Mr. and Mrs. Foster.]
I glanced up at him. "You need me to attend with you?"
He nodded. "Andrew and Olivia will be there too."
His gaze settled on me, steady and assessing. "This will be your first public appearance as my wife. Are you scared?"
I shook my head.
The person who should be scared wasn't me.
On the night of the event, I selected a black strapless evening gown.
Gabriel had arranged for a top-tier stylist to handle my makeup and hair.
The woman staring back at me from the mirror looked both unfamiliar and strangely familiar.
The servile eagerness that once dominated my expression had vanished, replaced by something distant and cold.
Gabriel approached from behind and fastened a diamond necklace around my throat in one smooth motion.
The cold stones against my skin made me flinch.
He leaned close, his breath warm against my ear. "Don't be afraid. Tonight, you'll be the queen of that room."
The line was cheesy as hell.
But somehow, I didn't mind hearing it.
When we walked into the banquet hall arm in arm, every head turned toward us.
Gabriel held considerable power in the business world. Still, he maintained a low profile and rarely attended events like this, much less with a date on his arm.
I felt countless eyes land on me, scrutinizing, envious, astonished.
Andrew's gaze among them.
He stood beside Olivia, laughing with several business partners.
The moment he spotted me, his smile froze on his face.