The sharp sound of the slap rang out, Chloe's hand burning as much as Richard's cheek. Shame washed over her. What had she done? She had snapped. Finally snapped.
Richard's face twisted with anger, a bright red mark standing out on his pale skin. Isabella lingered near him, her eyes wide with pretend worry, though a small, sly smile tugged at her lips.
Far off, Julian Devereux stood still, a quiet watcher to her total breakdown.
Chloe couldn't stay here. Not one more moment. She needed to get away, to breathe, to think.
She turned quickly and rushed back to the main ballroom, shoving past the velvet curtain, her heart pounding hard. The noise and bright lights felt like they were choking her now. She ignored the curious stares, the whispers that seemed to grow louder.
All she could think of was the suite. Room 1501. Their shared place, her safe spot, full of her things. She had to get there, lock the door, and fall apart.
The elevator ride felt like it took forever. The mirrored walls showed her tear-stained face, her messy elegance. A woman shattered.
At last, the doors pinged open to the quiet, soft hallway of the fifteenth floor. She almost ran to the door of 1501, digging in her tiny evening bag for the key card.
Her hands shook as she swiped it. Red light. Access denied.
No way. She tried again. Red light.
Fear squeezed her throat tight. Why wasn't it working? This was her room.
"Having a problem, Chloe?"
She whipped around. Richard stood at the end of the hallway, two hotel security guards in uniform beside him. His face was cold as ice. Isabella peeked from behind him, holding his arm, looking like a delicate, upset doll.
"My key isn't working," Chloe said, trying to keep her voice calm.
"That's right," Richard answered smoothly. "It's been turned off."
"Turned off? Why? This is my suite too!"
Richard stepped closer, the guards moving with him. "Actually, it isn't. Not anymore. Maybe you forgot the pre-nuptial agreement you signed?"
The prenup. She dimly remembered signing papers years ago, right after her father passed. Richard had called them a small detail, something his family lawyers needed. She had been sad, trusting. So foolishly trusting.
"I hardly looked at it," she admitted, a new wave of fear hitting her.
"A big mistake," Richard said, showing no kindness. "It says clearly that if we separate, this suite and some other things tied to my family stay mine alone. And starting now, you can't get in."
"You can't just kick me out!"
"I can, and I am." His voice was hard, final. "Security will take you out of here."
"My things, my clothes, my laptop..."
"You'll be told how to get back any personal stuff we decide is okay," Richard cut her off, his tone icy. "Now, please do as you're told."
One guard stepped forward. "Ma'am, please come with us."
Chloe looked from the blank-faced guard to Richard's harsh stare, then to Isabella's hidden smirk. Total betrayal. Planned cruelty.
She had no choice. Fighting would only make the shame worse.
Keeping her head up, though trembling inside, Chloe turned and walked to the elevator, the guards stepping beside her. Richard and Isabella watched her leave.
The ride down was quiet, heavy with silent judgment. The lobby was still full, packed with conference people wandering after the awards.
Heads turned as she was led through the huge space, guards on either side. Whispers trailed her like ghosts. Pitying looks, nosy stares, harsh judgment. Each look hit her like a punch.
She saw familiar faces, colleagues, rivals, industry people she'd known for years. Now they saw her like this. Shamed. Thrown away.
The automatic doors slid open, letting in the cool night air.
The guards stopped just outside.
"Have a good evening, ma'am," one said flatly, before they turned and went back in, leaving her alone on the curb.
The doors closed behind her, locking her out.
Chloe stood under the shiny lights of The Zenith hotel, gripping her small, useless evening bag. The city traffic sounds faded to a dull hum in her ears.
She had nothing. No husband, no home, no job. Even her clothes were locked away.
The full pain of the betrayal, the public shame, the total ruin, crashed over her. Tears came again, hot and bitter, blurring the bright city lights that once seemed so full of hope.
She was completely, scarily alone.
