Chapter 2

Shortly after Julian left, his assistant knocked on my door.

"Mrs. Hayes, Mr. Hayes asked me to drop off dinner."

I took the thermal bag. Inside was a container of seafood fried rice and a glass jar of bird's nest soup.

A sticky note was attached to the jar, written in Julian’s handwriting:

"Chloe’s stomach is acting up and she's on a liquid diet. Warm this bird's nest soup up and bring it to her tomorrow."

I stared at the note under the dim light, stood there in silence for a moment, and tossed the entire bag into the trash can.

During the first year of our marriage, Julian took me to a high-end business banquet where jumbo shrimp was served.

He didn't know I had a severe shellfish allergy back then and scooped one onto my plate.

Not wanting to embarrass him in front of his partners, I forced myself to swallow it.

That night, an ambulance rushed me to the ER. I spent a full twenty-four hours in the ICU fighting for my life.

Julian had stayed by my bedside, his eyes bloodshot, furiously calling me an idiot for eating it.

Ever since that night, whenever Julian hosted a dinner with me present, seafood was banned from the menu.

And now? He didn't even remember. His entire mind was consumed by Chloe’s delicate stomach.

The next morning, buzzing vibrations woke me.

It was Julian’s driver.

"Ma'am, Mr. Hayes instructed me to pick you up and bring you back to the estate."

I checked the time. Eight in the morning.

"Understood."

Grabbing the cold jar of soup from the counter, I walked downstairs.

Thirty minutes later, the car pulled up to the gated mansion in the hills.

This had been our marital home—the house I had spent three years decorating with love.

Pushing open the heavy front doors, the living room was in complete disarray.

Several uniformed movers were hauling in sleek, modern furniture.

Julian was lounging on the sofa, scrolling through stock charts on his iPad.

Chloe was wearing my silk robe, barking orders at the movers like she was the true lady of the manor.

"Be careful with that vase! Put it over there. Yes, shift the sofa slightly to the left."

Spotting me, Chloe paused, beaming as she glided over.

"Serena, you’re here! Did you sleep well last night?"

I handed her the thermal bag.

"Your soup."

Chloe took it, gasping in theatrical surprise as her hand flew to her mouth.

"Oh my gosh! Julian said he was sending me a midnight snack, and I waited up forever. He had it sent to your place?"

She looked back at Julian, her voice laced with tailored vulnerability.

"Julian, how could you make Serena deliver my food? She must be so upset with me."

Setting down his espresso cup, Julian looked up.

His gaze lingered on my high-neck sweater for a split second, his eyebrows twitching almost imperceptibly.

"Why would she be upset?"

"By the way," he said, looking at me coldly, "Chloe’s penthouse needs to air out after the renovations. She’s staying here for the time being."

He commanded me without a shred of hesitation:

"Clear out half of the master walk-in closet so Chloe has room for her clothes."