Chapter 2

Chloe's POV

It was burning hot.

In the cramped, sweat-slicked space, the heavy scent of sex and raw pheromones was suffocating.

Inside this ultra-luxury penthouse in Manhattan, the floor-to-ceiling glass windows reflected the glittering neon lights of the New York skyline, and our tangled, sweating bodies.

I was pressed hard against the cold glass, gasping as Ethan thrust into me from behind.

Ethan's grip was punishingly tight, as if he wanted to crush my bones and fuse me into his own body. His burning chest was glued to my bare back, every deep stroke filled with an undeniable, brutal dominance.

"Focus, Chloe," his low, raspy voice whispered against my ear. His hot breath brushed my skin as he bit down hard on my earlobe, sending a violent shiver straight down my spine.

I bit my lower lip raw, refusing to let out a single whimpering cry. My vision blurred with tears, and the city lights outside smeared into dizzying halos.

Three years.

I had been with this man for three whole years, yet I could never get used to his sheer madness in bed. To the world, Ethan Vance was the untouchable, cold-blooded billionaire CEO. But only I knew that behind closed doors, he was an insatiable monster.

He was addicted to my body.

He would kiss every single inch of my skin. And at the peak of his desire, he would grip my waist so hard it bruised, growling my name over and over again.

I used to think this toxic, beautiful obsession was love.

Until the final moment, when Ethan flipped me over, pinned me to the plush carpet, and let himself go. The second his passion peaked, the desire in his eyes vanished like a retreating tide, leaving only a freezing emptiness.

The air still smelled heavily of sex.

Ethan stood up, completely naked, and walked into the bathroom. The sound of running water started.

I lay on the carpet like a discarded rag doll, so sore I couldn't even lift a finger. My inner thighs were covered in angry red friction marks, proof of how rough he had just been.

Half an hour later, Ethan walked out. He was already fully dressed in a tailored black suit. His tie was perfectly straight, and his silver-rimmed glasses sat high on his nose, masking any trace of warmth in his eyes.

He was back to being the powerful, ruthless head of the Vance empire.

He walked over to the desk, poured a glass of warm water, and took a small white bottle from the drawer. He shook out two pills.

Turning around, he looked down at me with absolute indifference, holding out the water and the pills.

"Take them."

His voice was flat, like he was giving an order to a low-level employee.

My heart squeezed painfully. Birth control. For three years, after every single session, he would watch me swallow these pills with his own eyes.

I pushed myself up, my muscles aching. I didn't take the glass. I just looked up at the man I had loved for three years and whispered, "Ethan, my stomach hurts today. Can I please just..."

"No," Ethan cut me off, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. His long fingers gripped my chin, not hard enough to bruise, but with absolute control. "Be good, Chloe. I don't want any accidents."

An accident meant a baby.

He would never allow me to carry his blood.

I lowered my eyelashes to hide the stinging tears. I took the glass and swallowed the bitter pills dry, right in front of him.

Ethan let go of my chin, his thumb gently brushing my pale cheek, briefly returning to his role as the doting boyfriend. "I'm flying to Europe tonight for a few days. Stay in the penthouse. I just wired five million dollars to your account. Buy whatever you want."

Then, he pulled a sleek invitation card from his suit pocket and tossed it onto the coffee table.

"Next month, on the eighth. I'm getting engaged."

Boom.

My brain went entirely numb, a sharp ringing echoing in my ears. I snapped my head up, staring at the elegant, mocking invitation on the table.

"What did you say?" My voice shook violently.

"Are you deaf?" Ethan slowly buttoned his cuffs, his tone as casual as if he were talking about the weather. "I'm marrying Leilah Rose."

Leilah Rose.

New York's premier heiress. The girl Ethan grew up with. The woman he actually loved.

My nails dug so deep into my palms that they almost drew blood. My eyes burned red as I choked out, "You're getting married. Then what am I to you?"

Ethan let out a soft chuckle that didn't reach his eyes. He leaned down, placing both hands on the arms of the sofa, trapping me beneath him. His gaze was mocking and merciless.

"Chloe, you're a smart girl. Why ask such a stupid question? What are you? You're my pet, of course. Don't worry. Even after I marry Leilah, I won't cut you off. As long as you stay obedient, this penthouse, and I, will still be yours."

His words were like a poisoned blade, tearing open my chest and trampling my dignity into the dirt.

He wasn't just marrying another woman. He wanted to lock me in this penthouse forever as his dirty little secret.

Ethan didn't care about my ghostly pale face. He stood up straight and walked toward the door.

With a heavy thud, the door shut, locking me in the freezing silence.

I stumbled into the bathroom, fell over the toilet, and shoved my fingers down my throat.

"Gag..."

I retched violently until the stomach acid and the half-dissolved pills were forced out.

Staring at my bloodshot eyes and ruined face in the mirror, my tears finally spilled over.

In truth, I hadn't taken the pills last month. I had secretly swapped them with vitamins.

And my period was already ten days late.