Reborn To Leave My Billionaire Fiance

Prologue: I was with Julian for ten years. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, but he forced me to accept Mia into our lives, and in the end, it cost both of my parents their lives. Now, waking up on the very day Mia first walked through our door, my only goal is to protect them. This time, I'm going to take my parents and disappear from Julian's life completely, without leaving a trace. Chloe's POV "You must be Chloe. Julian mentioned you." I woke up in Julian's downtown penthouse. A woman in an off-white dress was sitting on the couch, drinking from my favorite mug, looking far more comfortable than I was. She turned her head and gave me a sweet smile. It was that face. Mia. In my past life, that very face destroyed my entire family. I didn't say a word. I walked straight into the bathroom and splashed cold water onto my face. The face in the mirror was pale, but my eyes were completely calm. I gave too much to him in my past life. Enough was enough. When I arrived at my parents' house, they were sitting at the dining table, eating oatmeal. My mom still had her spoon raised midair. "Chloe? What are you doing here at this hour?" I threw my arms around both of them, hugging them so hard my dad froze in surprise. "Mom, Dad," my voice trembled, "we're moving. Far away." Mom smiled gently. "Why move all of a sudden? Did you and Julian have a fight?" "No, we didn't." I looked up, my eyes rimmed with red. "I just need to leave. Right now. The sooner, the better. Please, just trust me this once." Mom set her spoon down. "Move where? For how long?" "We're not coming back," I said, enunciating every single word. "Once we leave this time, we never come back." Dad frowned. "We've lived in this house for so long. Just pack up and leave?" "A house can be replaced, but once you lose your lives, there's nothing left." The smile completely faded from Mom's face. Dad put down his bowl, his brows knitting tightly together. "What happened? You and Julian—" "It has nothing to do with him," I cut him off. "Mom, Dad, I can't explain everything right now. Just come with me. Living a peaceful, quiet life from now on is worth more than anything." The room fell silent for a long moment. Mom's eyes turned red first. "Did he mistreat you? Tell me." I shook my head. In my last life, before that winter even ended, my parents were publicly framed as con artists and died one after the other. I couldn't bring myself to say it. "No one mistreated me. I just want both of you to stay alive and safe." Dad looked at me for a long time, then slowly nodded. "All right. We'll go with you." I took them to a remote mountain town first. It was tucked away against the hills, far from the city, where no one knew who they were. I had someone quietly lease an apartment for them. Pressing the keys into Mom's hand, I repeated my warnings over and over: Don't open the door for strangers, use your new phone numbers, decline every invitation from old acquaintances, and just tell people your health is poor and you're recuperating out of town. Mom gripped my hand, her voice shaking. "Chloe, you're all by yourself back there—" "I'll be fine," I offered a small smile. "He's too busy to pay attention to me right now." After getting my parents settled, I ran around handling the paperwork to erase our family from public records. I knew Julian had eyes on me. During the day, I showed my face as usual and acted completely normal. At night, I stayed up preparing all kinds of documents. I ran myself ragged for five straight days. On the fifth night, I returned to Julian's penthouse. The living room lights were on. Julian sat on the sofa, an untouched glass of whiskey resting beside him. "You're back," he said. I nodded, hanging up my coat. Julian looked at me, giving me the same old line: "Chloe, you know better than anyone how well I treat you." In my past life, that exact sentence backed me into a corner. This time, I stood there in silence, not taking the bait. When I didn't respond, Julian didn't get angry. He pushed a few sheets of paper across the coffee table. "Over the past few days, where your parents went, which street they're on, their exact apartment number." He read it out item by item, his tone flat and low. "Every trip you made behind my back, who you met, what paperwork you filed, and how far along you are—I know all of it." My fingers curled tightly at my sides. "You had me followed?" "You belong to me." Julian picked up the glass, then set it back down. "What's wrong with keeping an eye on what's mine?" For five days, I thought we had hidden our tracks well and avoided detection. Turns out, he knew everything all along. "As long as you agree to let Mia move in," Julian said, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather, "I'll pretend I never saw any of this." The room grew so quiet I could hear the second hand ticking on the wall clock. In my last life, in this very room, he used my parents' reputation to blackmail me. In the end, my parents died. In this life, he hadn't moved against them yet; he was just threatening me, demanding the exact same price as before. Deep down, I used to think he was just confused, bewitched by that woman, and that he'd eventually come to his senses. That delusion was gone now. Showing me those documents was his way of forcing me to accept him and Mia. Arguing with him, crying, or bringing up the past would just be a waste of time. What I needed was time. I lifted my head, slowly uncurling my clenched fingers and letting them rest against my skirt. I gave a faint reply: "Okay." Julian studied me, not pressing any further. He leaned back into the sofa, the corner of his lips curving upward. "Good girl," he said. I walked into the bedroom, shut the door, and leaned my back against it for a long time. My palms were drenched in cold sweat. My nod was a lie. My agreement was fake. Only one thing was real: Julian was tracking me, and he knew what I was planning next. The more convinced he was that I had surrendered, the less likely he would keep digging. I had to play this part to perfection until he completely believed it. In the middle of the night, Julian's soft laughter coaxing Mia drifted in from the adjacent room. I lay in bed with my eyes wide open. In my past life, that sound would have made me cry myself to sleep all night. Tonight, it only told me one thing: as long as his attention was on Mia, he wouldn't be watching me.Chloe's POV The next morning, Julian came to test me. Leaning against the dining room doorway, he asked casually, "Did you sleep well last night?" "Very well." I pushed the plate of toast toward his hand. "You came back late last night." "Took her out for a late bite." His eyes stayed fixed on my face. I handed him the butter. "Eat up before it gets cold." Julian looked at me for two seconds, then smiled. Just by handing him toast and butter, he believed I had fallen in line. From that day on, he started bossing me around like a servant. "Mia loves fresh-ground coffee. Make it every morning and bring it up to her." "She's new here and doesn't know the layout. Give her a tour of the place." "She likes the window-facing room next to my study. Move your things out." Right in front of me, he held Mia's hand and brushed her hair behind her ear. He scheduled his days down to the minute: which days he'd spend with her, and which days he'd stay with me. I agreed to everything and followed every instruction. That room by the window used to be mine, but I carried Mia's luggage into it with my own hands. My hands stayed busy, my face completely blank. Once at breakfast, I served a fried egg, and Mia pushed the plate back with a frown. "I only eat them fully cooked." I took it back to the kitchen to remake it. When I brought it out again, Julian glanced over and said coldly, "She's a guest. Take this seriously." I set the plate down. "Got it. I'll remember." Mia shot me a smug look, nibbled at her egg, and leaned into Julian's chest coquettishly. "You're always the sweetest to me." I turned around to clean the kitchen, washing dishes and wiping down the counters. That night, he slapped two printed schedules down in front of me. "Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays I'm with her. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays I'm here." He tapped the paper with his knuckle. "Any objections?" "None," I said. "This weekend she wants to pick out some jewelry. You go along and carry her bags." "Okay." He nodded in satisfaction. A few days later, Julian threw a high-profile banquet. All the city's prominent socialites and elite showed up. Under the crystal chandeliers, he held Mia's hand and led her to the center of the crowd, announcing publicly that from this day forward, Mia was his woman. He raised his glass and declared, "I invited everyone here today to bear witness." Scattered, hesitant applause rippled through the guests. Someone leaned in close to my ear, whispering pseudo-comfortingly, "Chloe, just try to take it in stride." I smiled faintly and said nothing. That kind of advice sounded more like congratulating Mia than consoling me. I stood at the edge of the crowd holding a glass of wine, my fingertips icy cold. I knew what was coming next, but I kept my back straight and waited. Julian turned around and extended his hand toward me. I walked over. He slipped the heirloom ring off my ring finger. Years ago, he had put that very ring on my finger himself. Back then, he said it was the symbol of the lady of this house, and he wanted the entire city to see it. The ring got stuck at my knuckle. He gripped my finger, twisted it twice, and yanked it off by force. The entire hall fell dead silent. I looked at his hands, not pulling away. Once the ring rested in his palm, he turned and slid it onto Mia's ring finger. "From now on, this belongs to her," he said. Mia's eyes shone with greedy excitement. With a grand wave of his hand, he publicly announced four lavish gifts prepared just for Mia. With each item he named, people in the room gasped in awe. Mia held the ring up under the chandelier lights, tilting her head to ask Julian, "Does it look good?" "Beautiful," Julian said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You look gorgeous in everything." Someone in the crowd let out a nervous chuckle, then quickly choked it back. I listened as the names of those extravagant gifts spilled from his lips. Years ago, when he wanted the whole city to see me wear that ring, he invited this exact same crowd. Today, those same people were watching the ring change owners. Whatever he gave away, he could take back whenever he pleased—even if it meant twisting it painfully off my knuckle. Mia glanced sideways at me and smirked. "Chloe always carries that wooden comb around with her. It looks pretty unique." All eyes instantly shifted toward me. That comb was left to me by my grandmother. I had used it since childhood and never parted with it. I hid the comb behind my back. "Not this," I said firmly. Mia's smile dropped, and she looked over at Julian. Julian didn't even flinch. He stepped forward and reached out to pry my fingers open. I gripped it tightly, refusing to let go, so he peeled my fingers back one by one, snatched the comb away, and dropped it into Mia's hand. "Here, play with it," he said. My hand was empty. That comb had nothing to do with him. I had it long before I ever entered this house. He could take back anything he gave me, but this comb wasn't from him. Every morning when I brushed my hair, I felt like my grandmother was still by my side. He took even that away, tossing it to someone else just to "play with." Mia clutched the comb, lifting her chin at me triumphantly. The entire room was watching to see how I would react. I lowered my eyes, turned around, and walked out of the crowd. I didn't care about the ring. I didn't care about the status. But I was getting that comb back tonight, no matter what. Before the party ended, Mia announced she was going upstairs to change. I followed her up. I wanted to catch her alone and offer one of my own jewelry pieces in exchange for my comb. I pushed open the door to Mia's room. The main lights were off, leaving only a small bedside lamp glowing. Mia was touching up her makeup in front of the vanity. She twirled the wooden comb between her fingers and, without even looking, shoved it carelessly into a vase on the table. "The wood is practically cracking. I have no idea why she treats it like some precious treasure," Mia muttered to the mirror. "Julian only keeps her around out of old habit. Give it a few more weeks, and nobody will even remember her name." She chuckled at her reflection. "Still thinks she's the lady of the house. Pitiful." I leaned against the doorframe, standing there for a long time. The very thing I had clutched until my fingers were bruised, refusing to let go in front of everyone, was treated like trash by Mia. Mia caught sight of me in the mirror. "Chloe? What are you standing there for? Come on in."Chloe's POV I walked in and immediately reached for the vase. "Give me my comb back." Mia stepped back, shielding the vase behind her. "Julian gave this to me," she sneered, raising her chin. "If you want it, go ask him." I lunged forward to grab it. We scuffled, the vase wobbling on the vanity as the wooden comb peeked over the rim. Just as my hand closed around it, Mia let out a piercing shriek. Her foot slipped, and she tumbled off the edge of the bed, crashing hard onto the carpet. The door was slammed open at that exact second. Julian burst in, immediately pulling Mia into his arms. "Where does it hurt?" He bent down to inspect her knees. Mia's eyes instantly welled with tears, and she sobbed, pointing at me. "She pushed me, Julian! She shoved me from behind!" Before I knew it, a crowd of curious onlookers had gathered at the door and along the hallway; the commotion had echoed down the entire floor. People stood on their tiptoes to peer inside, whispering among themselves, every gaze landing heavily on me. I stood rooted to the spot, clutching the comb I had just retrieved. "I didn't push her," I said. Julian looked up. He didn't bother checking the scuff marks on the carpet. He didn't ask what anyone in the hall had seen. He just stared at me, his voice dangerously low. "Tell me. Do you admit it, or not?" The weight of every eye in the room pressed down on me. I opened my mouth to defend myself. "Your parents moved to that little mountain town recently, didn't they? Riverside Street, building three, third floor, east-facing unit," Julian said flatly. "Am I right?" The words died in my throat. Mia whimpered softly in his arms. "Julian, my knee hurts so much..." "I know," he patted her gently, his eyes never leaving mine. "Tell me. Am I right, Chloe?" Not only did he know, but he made sure to say it in front of all these people so I would hear it loud and clear. If I uttered a single "no," his very next move would be just like in my past life—making sure my parents couldn't even survive in that small town. "Say it!" Mia urged from the side. "Tell everyone you didn't push me!" I looked at Julian. "Speak," Julian commanded, his voice crushing down on me, demanding total submission. Looking at him, I suddenly let out a faint, hollow laugh. There was a time when if I got the slightest scratch, this man would kneel on the floor just to soothe me. Today, the marks on the carpet were right beside his feet, and he couldn't even be bothered to look. He didn't care about the truth at all. In this house, telling the truth was completely useless. "Chloe, say something!" Mia pressed again. "Everyone is waiting." I turned my face toward her and stared at her for a long time, so long that Mia shrank back into Julian's chest. Word by word, I swallowed the truth back down. Accepting the blame meant enduring humiliation. In exchange, it bought my parents a few more days of peace in that town. Someone in the crowd murmured, "Just apologize and get it over with." "I admit it," I whispered softly. Mia sniffled against Julian's chest, unable to suppress the smug smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. The room went still for a second before erupting into murmurs. Someone clicked their tongue—whether out of pity for me or sheer amusement, I couldn't tell. Julian didn't waste another word on me. He smoothed down the hem of Mia's dress and blew gently on her scraped knee. Then, scooping her up into his arms, he turned toward the door. "Take her downstairs. Call the doctor." He carried her straight through the parted crowd, murmuring reassurances the entire way, never sparing me a single backward glance. Blowing on a scrape to make it feel better... that was something he had only ever done for me. In the crowd, a woman holding a cocktail glass watched with a mocking half-smile. It was Vanessa. Years ago, she was a prominent socialite who chased Julian aggressively. Once, when Julian wasn't around, she slapped me across the face. Because of that one slap, Julian ruined her family's business connections in high society. Her family had been on a downward spiral ever since, nowhere near as powerful as they used to be. Now, she strutted up to me, tilted her wrist, and spilled half her drink right onto the hem of my dress. "Well, well," Vanessa drawled. "Look at the precious Chloe now. Back then, one little slap from me could ruin an entire family. How come you're standing here playing the mute today?" She leaned in, dropping her voice so only the two of us could hear. "You finally got what was coming to you. I've waited years for this day." Someone nearby chuckled softly. I kept my eyes down, motionless. "Back then, he destroyed my family just for you," Vanessa hissed, glaring at me. "Today, he walked right past you carrying another woman, and he didn't even glance at you. Did you see that clearly?" I lifted my eyes, glanced at her once, and looked back down. I didn't bother snapping back. Talking back required the backing Julian once gave me, but that backing was gone now. Anything he had ever given me, I didn't want a single piece of it anymore. Vanessa opened her mouth to say more, but someone beside her pulled her away. She scoffed and walked off, turning back to shoot me one last glare after a couple of steps. Once they left, most of the onlookers dispersed. The wooden comb in my palm felt burning hot. The teeth had cut into my skin, and blood was seeping out, but I didn't let go. The spilled wine soaked into my dress, freezing cold against my skin, but I didn't bother wiping it off. I got the comb back. I had won half the battle tonight. I walked out, taking one slow step at a time. Just as I reached the doorway, my vision went pitch black. I reached out to brace myself against the wall, but missed. My knees buckled, and I collapsed straight onto the floor.Chloe's POV When I woke up, I found myself lying in my own room. The cut on my hand had been treated and wrapped in a thin layer of gauze. I turned my head and saw Julian sitting by the bed, holding the leftover roll of bandages. "You're awake?" His expression was indifferent. "Behave yourself. Mia has a gentle temper and isn't holding a grudge, but don't provoke her again." "When I collapsed, where were you?" I asked. "Downstairs, waiting for the doctor with her," he said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I looked at him. I figured after I passed out, he was the one who carried me back to the room and bandaged my hand. But his heart no longer belonged to me. How I passed out, whether I was in pain, whether I was scared—he didn't ask a single question. I pulled my bandaged hand under the blanket. "Understood." Julian stood up to leave. Staring at his back, I couldn't help but ask, "Her knee was slightly red, and your heart ached for her. When you bandaged my hand, didn't you see the blood?" Julian paused, but didn't turn around. "You're stronger than she is." The door clicked shut. Staring up at the plain white ceiling, I let out a dry laugh. Strong. In his eyes, the blood pouring from my body wasn't a wound; it just meant I had a higher pain tolerance. A few days later, a group of people drove out to the countryside for stargazing. They called it stargazing, but in reality, Julian just wanted to take Mia out to clear her head. Tents were pitched in the valley. The night wind blew hard, and the stars hung so thick they looked ready to fall. Late into the night, disaster struck on the hillside. First came panicked screams, followed by a violent tremor beneath our feet, and chaos erupted outside the tents. Julian lunged forward, pulling Mia into his chest and shielding her with his entire back. A stray rock grazed his forearm, tearing open a bloody gash, but he didn't even flinch. He just kept his head down, asking Mia if she was scared. As the fleeing crowd rushed past, he scooped Mia up and ran toward safety with them, vanishing in an instant. I was left behind. In the past, he would have immediately pulled me behind him and said, "I'm here." Tonight, that tenderness belonged to someone else. I stood there alone, and he hadn't spared me a single glance. The mountain path was pitch black, steep, and narrow. My foot slipped, my knee crashed against a boulder, and my hands were scraped raw. Gritting my teeth, I pushed forward. Just as I was about to reach the safe zone, I spotted a figure standing ahead. It was Mia. Seeing me, she put on an expression of deep concern. Pointing off to the side, she said, "This way is faster. Take this trail up." I paused at the fork. The path was pitch black, leading into nowhere. "Hurry!" Mia urged. "There are more rocks falling behind you!" I followed that path. The further I walked, the more desolate it became. It was completely abandoned, a massive detour. I stumbled around in the dark for what felt like hours, twisting my ankle and tearing open the wounds on my hands. By the time I finally found my way back to the lights, I was covered in mud. One of the crew members gasped and reached out to support me. "Chloe, what happened to you—" "I'm fine." I brushed his hand off and stood on my own. Julian was currently sitting beside Mia, warming her hands in his. I limped into the pool of light. He looked up, scanned my disheveled state, and immediately scowled. "How did you end up covered in cuts? You can't even walk properly? Stop making a scene." Mia, wrapped snugly in a blanket, tugged on Julian's sleeve with wide, innocent eyes. "Don't blame Chloe. She didn't do it on purpose." I looked at her. "Mia gave me the wrong directions." The words were right on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them down again. Back upstairs, she cried in his arms, and he instantly believed her. Now, even if she sent me down the wrong path on purpose, he would still take her side. Speaking up would only add another charge of "framing Mia," giving him another excuse to rattle off my parents' address. I slowly bent down, pressing a hand against my bloody knee. "Yeah," I said softly. "I was careless." I found a quiet corner to sit down, dug out some ointment from my bag, and treated my twisted ankle. It hurt. It hurt terribly. But for the sake of my parents' peace in that small town, this pain was worth it. Across the campsite, the sound of Mia being pampered and teased drifted through the night air, muffled by the wind. I pulled my pant leg down and closed my eyes. Tonight made one thing crystal clear: when real danger struck, he could only save one person, and that person was no longer me.Chloe's POV On the drive back to the city, my body gave out. I passed out in the car. Later, I heard the staff carried me inside and took me back to Julian's downtown penthouse. I burned with a fever for two straight days. When I opened my eyes, Julian was sitting by my bedside. The sky outside was gray. I twitched my fingers; every single inch of my body ached. Seeing him there, my heart softened for a brief second, until he spoke: "How do you manage to mess up walking down a path?" My heart turned to ice instantly. He wasn't sitting here out of concern for my injuries. "Mia pointed me toward that path," I said, staring at him, speaking each word deliberately. "The one she showed me wasn't a shortcut at all." Julian's face instantly darkened. "Chloe." His voice went cold. "Mia is timid. She was terrified that night, barely able to speak. You got yourself lost; don't go throwing dirt on her." "It was pitch black on the mountain that night," I struggled to sit up. "Why was she conveniently waiting at that exact fork for me?" "She was worried about you." "Worried about me, so she sent me down an abandoned trail?" "Stop falsely accusing people," he cut me off, standing up. "I don't want to hear that nonsense a second time." He turned and walked away. I had spoken the raw truth, and this was the reaction I got. For days after that, he never showed his face again. Meals were delivered to my door on time, mostly just plain, cold bread and water. I didn't complain. I ate every bite of the cold food. I needed to get back on my feet. I needed to walk on my own, to carry my own luggage. I tore the calendar pages off one by one. Every page meant one day closer to the end. The day I was finally able to stand, I used the wall for support and made it to the doorway, just as the door was pushed open from the outside. Mia stood there in a brand-new dress, holding a designer purse. "Oh, you can walk now?" She smiled sweetly. "I heard about what happened. Julian felt so bad for me, saying I was traumatized, so he's taking me to the beach to relax." She stepped closer, leaning in, her voice dropping into a smug whisper. "Chloe, why bother fighting it? Can't you see who runs this house now?" I held onto the doorframe, remaining silent. "Why so quiet?" Mia stepped closer still. "Too ashamed, or too scared?" "Mia," I spoke softly. "Anything you can steal isn't real." "I don't care if it's real or fake," Mia laughed. "Right now, I have your man. Julian only has eyes for me. If you had any self-respect left, you'd pack your bags and leave." Suddenly, someone rushed in from the end of the hallway—hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot, screaming someone's name as they lunged straight at Mia. Mia shrieked and scrambled backward. Julian rounded the corner almost at the exact same second. With a casual yank, he shoved me directly in front of Mia. Before I could even react, the attacker slammed me violently against the wall. Their nails dug deep into my arm, raking bloody gashes across my skin. In the ensuing chaos, someone finally wrestled the frantic attacker away. I slid down the wall, hitting the floor, looking down at my arm as blood welled up from the cuts. I lifted my head. Julian already had Mia wrapped tightly in his arms, rubbing her back, asking frantically if she was hurt. He didn't spare me a single glance. In my past life, I refused to accept it, refused to believe it. I always blamed myself, wondering if I said the wrong thing or did something poorly to deserve this treatment. Today, I didn't need to wonder anymore. His reflex was to shield Mia. I was the one tossed out as a meat shield. When he shoved me, there wasn't a millisecond of hesitation. When life was on the line, I had watched him make his choice across two lifetimes. Today, I saw it with total clarity. Someone stepped over to help me up, handing me a tissue. I waved them off and pulled myself up using the wall. No one asked if I was in pain. I didn't expect anyone to. I tallied those bloody gashes in my mind. Every mark brought me one step closer to leaving. I pulled my sleeve down, hiding my arm.Chloe's POV My injuries were fairly bad, keeping me in bed for several more days. The scabs on my arm cracked and bled, then scabbed over again. There wasn't a single person in the house to help change my bandages. The day I could finally sit up, Julian paid a visit. He stood by the bed, hands in his pockets. After a long silence, he finally spoke, a rare flicker of awkwardness on his face. "About what happened the other day," he said, "it was an instinct." I leaned against the headboard, watching him. "Anyone would instinctively protect whoever was closest," he looked away. "Consider us even." "Even," I repeated softly, lifting my bandaged arm. "Do these cuts count toward being even, too?" "What else do you want?" Julian frowned. I lowered my arm. "Mia was shaken up," he paused, his tone hardening again. "Apologize to her, and we'll put this behind us." I looked at the face of the man I once loved. In the past, I would have asked: What about me? What about my injuries? He would offer an answer, I would believe it, and next time danger struck, I would still be the one thrown in front. I was completely sick of it. "I'm tired," I said. "Some other time." Julian looked at me, scowling. "Don't cause trouble." He turned and walked out. I stared at the closed door and shut my eyes. A few days later, he had someone deliver a detailed file to me. It was meticulously drafted, down to which flowers Mia was allergic to and which row of seats kept her from getting car sick. "Follow this and throw a public party for her," the messenger handed me the ledger, whispering Julian's orders. "Mr. Sterling said to make it as grand as possible." I flipped through the pages one by one. Halfway through, my fingers froze. Julian used to plan things for me like this, too. Every preference or dislike I ever mentioned in passing, he remembered, quietly arranging everything behind the scenes. Once, I casually complained that the coffee at a certain cafe was too bitter; the very next day, they switched to the exact beans I loved. Back then, I took those gestures as absolute proof that I was the only one in his heart, counting them up like treasures for years. Now I finally understood: his talent for memorizing someone's preferences had never faded. He just decided who was worthy of it. I closed the file and put it in my drawer. The next morning, I began organizing the party strictly according to the file, perfecting every single detail. Some staff members felt bad for me, murmuring quietly behind his back, "Why make Miss Chloe organize this..." I overheard it and merely said, "Just do what you're told. Why ask so many questions?" Every aspect of the event catered specifically to Mia's tastes. The staff saw it all, but no one dared speak out of turn. Some sighed in private, noting how I used to be held on a pedestal like this, and now I was running errands for someone else. I heard the whispers, but never explained myself. The smoother this party went, the less Julian would look my way. That was all I cared about. The banquet was undeniably lavish. That night, under the glittering crystal chandeliers, Julian publicly handed an extravagant gift directly to Mia. The room erupted into gasps, followed by thunderous applause. Mia accepted it happily, then suddenly turned around, raising her voice in front of everyone. "Chloe," she asked with a sweet smile, "what did you prepare for me tonight?" All eyes converged on me once again. I reached behind me, pulled out a neatly wrapped gift box, and held it out.