Echoes of Betrayal

Chapter 1 Three years into our marriage, Julian suddenly lost interest in me. Every time we fought, he would just push his childhood best friend, Mia, between us. "Mia is a woman too; she understands you better. Talk to her, and stop making a scene with me." Desperate to force him to actually look at me, I maxed out three of his platinum cards in a single day. I took a pair of scissors to every custom-tailored dress shirt in his closet. On our anniversary, I posted on Facebook: [Julian Vance has a mistress. He hasn't been home in three years.] When mutual friends screenshotted it and texted him, he just frowned at Mia. "Go ask her if she's done acting crazy." Hearing the sheer disgust in his voice, a pang of regret actually hit me. I was just about to swallow my pride and apologize when I heard Mia's voice, dripping with overwhelming guilt: "Julian, please don't blame Chloe. She just wants you to comfort her." "If you hadn't gone off the grid with me in Iceland for seven days to see the Northern Lights... maybe her parents wouldn't have been pushed to the brink by those debt collectors..." "And then you forced her to get an abortion because you and I made a pact to remain child-free, and it left her infertile. I know you lied and told her those things were just accidents, but I've always felt so guilty..." "The doctor said her mental state might improve if she had a child. Just... let her have the baby I'm carrying." A heavy silence followed. Finally, Julian spoke. "Focus on your pregnancy. Don't let that crazy woman anywhere near you." Suddenly... I didn't want to make a scene anymore. That night, Mia came to my room holding two of Julian's black cards, looking at me with eyes full of pity. "Julian said you can max these out too, if it makes you feel better. He knows your mental health is fragile right now, Chloe. He wants me to handle all communications between you two from now on." I stared at her hand—the one she had intentionally, delicately placed over her lower stomach. I looked down, pulled a divorce agreement from my drawer, and placed it in her free hand. "In that case, you can handle the divorce negotiations, too." ... Mia looked down at the paperwork, a mask of deep conflict settling over her face. "Chloe... does Julian know about this?" "He doesn't," I said, meeting her gaze. "But you're going to make sure he signs it." Mia hesitated. "Chloe, please don't misunderstand me. Julian really does care about you. It's just that you're always so hysterical, he's afraid to get close..." "Mia." I cut her off. "I want to see the signed agreement in three days. You're so good at passing messages. Pass this one along." She bit her lip, her voice turning even softer and sweeter. "Chloe, Julian’s been having terrible stomach issues lately. Please don't pressure him..." "I'm not pressuring him," I smiled faintly. "I'm pressuring you." Her expression stiffened for a fraction of a second before melting back into absolute docility. She turned and brought over a small, steaming bowl of bird's nest soup. "Let's put this aside for now. Have some soup." "Bird's nest is the absolute best thing for pregnant women. Even though you aren't pregnant, Chloe, it's still very nourishing." I looked at the bowl and let out a dry laugh. No wonder the housekeeper had been stewing this expensive soup every single day for the past month. It was for the pregnant woman. I was highly allergic to bird's nest. Julian knew that. My mind drifted over the past three years. Every single time Julian and I fought, Mia was there, pouring tea, acting as the peacemaker. "Don't be mad, Chloe. You know Julian just has a hard time expressing his feelings." "Julian, Chloe just wants what's best for you. Go talk to her." I genuinely used to believe that our marriage was only surviving because she was playing the mediator. I used to feel guilty for being jealous of her. I thought I was being petty and insecure. But now, it was like a blindfold had been ripped off. Everything from the past three years suddenly made sickening sense. She was just the daughter of the Vance family's chauffeur, yet she had unrestricted access to the family estate. She was the only one who knew the passcode to Julian's private study. She was the "messenger" for our marriage, but every single thing she did made her look more like Mrs. Vance than I did. I pushed the bowl back across the table. "I'll wait for your news." As I stood up, I added one last thing. "Oh, and you don't need to consult me about household matters anymore. You have full authority." I hadn't noticed the study door open. Julian had obviously heard my last sentence. He glared at me, his brow heavily furrowed. "What do you mean, 'full authority'? Chloe, are you Mrs. Vance, or is she?" I turned to look at him. "Is there a difference? For the past three years, she attends family galas in my place. She relays your words to me. She knows better than I do which high-society events I should attend and who I should network with. Tell me, which duty of 'Mrs. Vance' has she not fulfilled?" "You—" Mia immediately stepped between us. "Julian, Chloe is just upset right now. Please don't be mad at her." She reached out, grabbing my arm in her perfect 'peacemaker' act. "Don't touch me!" I instinctively pulled my arm back. With a dramatic gasp, Mia threw her entire body weight sideways, collapsing toward the floor. Julian's face instantly turned white. He lunged forward and caught her before she hit the ground. "Chloe!" He snapped his head up to glare at me, his eyes burning with an uncontainable rage. "Are you out of your damn mind?! She spends every single day dealing with your psychotic drama, she's completely exhausted, and now you're getting physical?!" I stood frozen in place. In the past, whenever I pulled away from her, she would just take a half-step back, smile sweetly, and say, "Don't be mad, Chloe." But today, she dared to throw herself at the floor. She dared to huddle against his chest with red, teary eyes. She dared to let him see me "push" her. Because she had something in her belly now. She knew that if she fell, Julian's heart would break. She knew it would just prove that I was "crazy." Sure enough, Julian's voice dropped to a dangerous octave. "Are we going to make this marriage work or not?" "No." I heard myself laugh, a sharp, broken sound. "No, we're not. Is that what you want to hear? You're right, Julian. I am crazy." Mia nestled in his arms, whispering softly, "Julian, let it go. I know Chloe didn't mean it..." "Shut up." I pointed a shaking finger at her. "You can drop the act, Mia. You're the perfect messenger, right? Then I'll tell you right now: make him sign the papers. Sign them, and I'm gone. I will never step foot in this house again." Julian stared at me, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek. "What kind of psychotic episode is this?" "Psychotic episode?" I smiled, taking a step back. "Right. I'm crazy. You want crazy? I'll give you crazy." I spun around, stormed into his study, grabbed a heavy porcelain vase, and hurled it directly at his prized, antique painting on the wall. The glass shattered. Black ink splattered across the hardwood floor. "Is that crazy enough?" I turned back to look at him. "Do you want more?" He stood in the doorway, shielding Mia behind his back. He looked at me like I was a terminal patient who had finally lost her mind. "Chloe," he said coldly. "Calm down." "I am perfectly calm." I dusted off my hands and smiled faintly. "Julian, starting today, whoever you want to be Mrs. Vance can be Mrs. Vance. I don't give a damn anymore." Julian's face darkened like a thundercloud. "You are the one who schemed and plotted your way into this marriage, and now you're the one saying you don't give a damn. Chloe, what do you think the Vance family is? A revolving door?" I smiled bitterly. He was right. I had exhausted every ounce of my energy to lock myself inside this gilded cage. I had swallowed the key and lied to myself, calling it love. "In the Vance family, marriages only end in widowhood, not divorce," he enunciated every single word. "If you think you're walking out of here alive, you're dreaming." He turned his head to the housekeeper standing nervously in the hall. "Take my wife to her room. She is not to leave without my explicit permission." The housekeeper grabbed my arm and dragged me up the stairs. From below, I could still hear his low, gentle voice comforting Mia. "Don't worry. She's just running her mouth. She'll be back to normal in a few days." Back to normal in a few days? I closed my eyes and let out a derisive scoff. In the past, no matter how hysterical I got, no matter how much I screamed, it was all just a desperate plea for him to look at me. This was the very first time I had ever said the word "divorce." He didn't even realize that the moment those words left my lips, something had shattered for good. It couldn't be glued back together. Julian... we're past the point of no return. When I woke up the next morning, my door was finally unlocked. As I walked downstairs, Mia immediately stood up. "Chloe! You're awake! Let me get you some congee." I glanced at the bowl. Bird's nest congee. Again. Julian knew perfectly well that bird's nest gave me severe hives. It made my skin itch and burn for an entire day. But for the past month, he ordered the kitchen to stew it daily to nourish Mia and her pregnancy. If I drank it, I suffered. If I refused, I was being a spoiled, picky brat. To prove that I was being "good," I had forced it down my throat every day for a month. He hadn't even noticed. His entire perception of whether I was being "crazy" or "good" relied entirely on whatever came out of Mia's mouth. So it didn't matter how much I tried to change, or how much anger I swallowed. It was useless. He was deaf to my words. He only heard hers. "I'm not eating it." I pushed the bowl away. Mia looked at Julian with wide, helpless eyes. "Julian... Chloe is being difficult again..." "If she doesn't want it, let her starve," he said without looking up from his Wall Street Journal. "Sit down and eat your breakfast, Mia." Mia didn't sit. She picked the bowl back up and placed it in front of me again. "Chloe, please just have a few bites. Julian specifically asked the chef to make this for you. He noticed you haven't been eating much lately and you've lost weight." She held the porcelain spoon out to me. "It's your own body. If you don't care about your health, Julian will be so worried." "I said I'm not eating it," I snapped, impatiently swatting her hand away. The bowl hit the marble floor and shattered. Mia let out a startled shriek, her eyes instantly filling with tears. "Chloe... I didn't mean to make you mad..." Julian threw his paper down and strode over, inspecting her hand for cuts. A second later, he grabbed the remaining half-bowl of congee from the counter, gripped my jaw with one hand, and forcefully poured the scalding liquid down my throat. He only let go after I was forced to swallow the last drop, slamming the empty bowl onto the counter. "From now on, you eat whatever the kitchen makes. If you throw another tantrum, I have a dozen ways to make you stay quiet." I slumped over the table, coughing violently. And as I coughed, I started to laugh. I laughed at my own stupidity. I actually thought there was still something in this house worth fighting for. He turned and grabbed his suit jacket. "I have business dinners tonight. I'll be back late." He glanced back at me one last time, his jaw clenched. "Don't act crazy again." The front door clicked shut. Mia looked at me, shaking her head in mock pity. "Chloe, why do you do this to yourself? Bird's nest is a luxury. If it weren't for my... special condition, I wouldn't even get to eat it." I steadied myself on the edge of the table and stood up, looking at her with disdain. "So, when are you going to get him to sign the agreement?" She smiled sweetly. "What's the rush, Chloe?" "The Vance and Sinclair families are hosting a joint gala the day after tomorrow. As Mrs. Vance, it would look very bad if you didn't attend." I let out a scoff. "I'm not even allowed at private family dinners. You think I have a seat at a high-society gala?" "Mia, drop the act. I'm exhausted just watching you perform." Knowing about her 'special condition,' she clearly felt she didn't need to maintain the innocent facade anymore. She sank comfortably into the plush sofa. "Alright, Chloe. Since we're putting our cards on the table, I'll be blunt. Did you really think playing the 'I want a divorce' card as a reverse-psychology trick would actually win him back?" "Everyone from the top to the bottom of the Vance estate calls me before they even think about calling you. What exactly do you have to fight me with?" I couldn't help but laugh. "If you're so powerful, and you can't even get a simple divorce paper signed, you have no business plotting a coup." Her expression faltered. She clearly hadn't expected me to call her bluff so aggressively. "If I don't have that signed agreement in my hands by tomorrow," I warned her, "I will ensure that neither you nor your bastard child ever get official recognition in this family." "I will be a 'crazy wife' for the rest of my life. I will haunt him until the day I die." "I might be a fallen heiress, but I am still the legal wife. You've been scheming for three years, and he has never once brought up divorcing me. Haven't you figured it out yet?" I knew exactly where to strike. Her face instantly darkened. "And let's take a step back. What if I agree to let Julian adopt a child to save my mental health... but I absolutely refuse to let it be yours?" "Julian has always felt insanely guilty about my infertility. Do you want to bet on whether or not he'd agree to my terms?" She didn't say a word. For weeks, she had been dropping aggressive hints, practically begging me to discover her pregnancy so I would throw a massive, relationship-ending tantrum. A scandal like that would either end in divorce or leave my reputation completely shredded. But I knew the truth, and I hadn't reacted at all. "Chloe," she smiled, dropping the 'sisterly' honorific for the first time. "What exactly do you want?" "I already told you what I want." I took a step back. "The choice is yours." I turned and walked up the stairs. Half of what I said was a bluff to scare her. The other half was the absolute truth. If I couldn't escape this hellhole, then I was going to make sure no one else found peace either. I was already labeled a "crazy woman." I had no problem acting the part. By noon the next day, Mia placed the signed divorce agreement on the table in front of me. "Julian said that ending a toxic, draining marriage is for the best." Looking at his bold, elegant signature on the dotted line, my chest tightened painfully. Once, we had loved each other so fiercely. I never thought our marriage would end via a proxy messenger. "Thank you." I had just tucked the agreement into my purse when a familiar voice called out from the entryway. "Chloe!" My body went rigid. I turned my head. My teenage brother, Liam, was striding toward me in his high school uniform. "Liam? What are you doing here?" "Julian had Mia pick me up." He shook a bottle of juice in his hand. "He said you missed me, and told me to stay over for a couple of days." My throat closed up. Three years ago, my family's company went bankrupt. The loan sharks were ruthless, and they hadn't stopped hunting us since. I had kept Liam completely hidden for three years. I didn't even put my name down as his emergency contact at school, terrified that the debt collectors would track him down. Julian promised me—swore to me—that he would never mention Liam to anyone. How did this happen... "Mia!" I couldn't stop my voice from rising. "What the hell are you playing at?" Mia blinked, looking the picture of innocence. "Chloe, why are you yelling at me? Julian knows you hate large crowds, so he asked me to pick Liam up to attend the Vance-Sinclair gala in your place. I was just following orders." "Absolutely not!" I forced my temper down. "You can go by yourself." I grabbed Liam's arm, ready to drag him out the door. Just then, the front door clicked open. Julian was home. His gaze swept over me and my brother, finally landing on Mia's slightly reddened eyes. "What's going on?" Mia shook her head sadly. "Chloe can't attend the gala, but she won't let Liam go either. I just don't know how to explain her absence to the elders now." Julian looked at me. "Sending Liam is for your own good. Since you won't be there, having your brother represent you will remind people who Mrs. Vance actually is." "Julian, are you out of your mind?! You know exactly what exposing him to the public means—" I bit my tongue, forcing the rest of the sentence back down. Liam was only seventeen. He thought his sister married a wonderful, protective man. He thought going to a gala was just a fun night out. No matter how miserable my reality was, I refused to let him see it. "Julian. We need to talk. Alone." I kept my voice low. He didn't even break his stride, heading straight for his study. "Talk to Mia." "Julian!" I took a step after him. Mia instantly stepped in front of me, reciting the line I was so sickeningly tired of hearing. "Chloe, to avoid any unnecessary conflict, please just relay your message through me." Again. He refused to speak a single word to me, even when I wasn't being "crazy." "Fine. I'll tell you," I said, glaring at Mia. "Liam is not going anywhere. If you so much as lay a finger on him, I will call the police." Swallowing the bitter lump in my throat, I grabbed Liam's hand and pulled him out the door. In the car, I gave him strict instructions. "Liam, I'm transferring you to a different school as soon as possible. If Mia ever tries to pick you up again, do not get in her car." He looked confused, but nodded. "Okay. I'll listen to you, Chloe." He looked at me, seeming to sense the unspoken tension. "Chloe... please take care of yourself. Just wait until I grow up. Once I make it big, I'll protect you." My nose stung. "I know you will." I watched him safely walk through the school gates before turning my car around and driving out to the suburbs. The cemetery was incredibly quiet at night. My parents' headstones stood side-by-side. I placed the flowers I bought on the ground and sat in the damp grass. "Mom. Dad." I traced the engraved letters with my fingertips. "I think... I married the wrong man." I fell asleep leaning against their headstones that night. The next day, I went back to the villa, packed my bags, and tried calling Liam. It went straight to voicemail. Panicking, I called his homeroom teacher. The teacher sounded confused. "Someone from your family picked him up yesterday afternoon. He took a leave of absence, saying he had to attend a formal family gala." The teacher wouldn't say anything else, but my blood ran cold. I instantly knew what had happened. I frantically dialed Julian's number. Mia answered. "Chloe? Julian is busy right now. Is there a message you need me to relay?" "Where is Liam?!" "Him?" Mia laughed softly. "I went to pick him up yesterday evening, and he absolutely refused to come with me. So I told him, 'If you don't go, your sister is going to be a laughingstock in the Vance family.' He got in the car like a good boy after that. I dropped him back at his dorm right after the gala ended. Why?" "The school said he never came back!" The line went silent for a split second, then Julian's voice came through. "What's going on?" I broke down crying. "Julian! Liam never made it back to school! You need to send your men to find him right now—" "Chloe." He cut me off, his tone laced with cold annoyance. "Are you throwing another tantrum? Mia watched him walk through the school gates with her own eyes. How could he be missing? Are you really making up a kidnapping just because I didn't let you go to a party?" "Julian, I swear to God I'm not making this up—" "Enough. You are seriously becoming a massive disappointment." He hung up. When I tried calling back, his phone was turned off. At 7:00 PM, when they finally returned to the villa, I charged at them, ready to demand answers. But the police arrived at the door first. "We found Liam's body in the river on the outskirts of town. He was kidnapped. The kidnappers demanded a ransom, but no one answered their calls, so they executed him." "The remains were... incomplete. He was dismembered." I stood there, listening to the officers deliver the news word by word. And then, I laughed. I laughed so hard I doubled over. I laughed until my face was entirely soaked with tears. Julian, his face ashen, muttered something to the officers, and they quietly left. Then he walked over and crouched down in front of me. "Chloe. Please don't be like this." "Julian." I slowly raised my head to look at him. "This was you protecting my family? What exactly did you protect?" He froze. He couldn't utter a single syllable. I stood up, walked into the kitchen, and grabbed the sharpest butcher knife from the block.