He Bought His Mistress A Penthouse In The Building I Own Chapter 10

He Bought His Mistress A Penthouse In The Building I Own Chapter 10: The Confrontation

Chloe pushed through the heavy mahogany doors of the women’s lounge. I caught the brass handle before the door could swing shut entirely. The classical music from the ballroom instantly muffled into a low, distant hum.

“Stay away from me!” Chloe backed up, her shoes scuffing against the polished tile floor.

I kept walking forward.

“I mean it, Seraphina. I will scream.”

“Scream,” I challenged. “Let every socialite in this building find you hiding in a bathroom with stolen property.”

She retreated further. Her hips hit the edge of the marble vanity. There was nowhere left to run. The long row of mirrors reflected her pale face and the massive blue stone resting against her chest.

“You are acting insane over a piece of jewelry,” she stammered, gripping the edge of the sink.

“It is a two-million-dollar heirloom. People go to prison for less.”

“Julian gave it to me! It belongs to me now!”

“Julian has no legal right to gift my grandmother’s assets.”

“He told me you hated this necklace.” She lifted her chin, trying to muster a defiant glare. “He said it sat in a dark box for years. He said you didn’t appreciate beautiful things.”

“He told you a lot of things. Did he mention he was broke?”

Chloe’s mouth flattened into a hard line. “He is building an empire.”

“He is bankrupting a shell company. And you are wearing the evidence of his fraud.”

“You are just jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Yes!” She slapped her hand against the marble counter. “He promised me a life, Seraphina. He said you were a cold, unfeeling robot. He said you only cared about your board meetings and your stock portfolios.”

“And yet, my stock portfolios bought the caviar you ate last night.”

“You think money solves everything.”

“I think money buys the illusion you fell in love with.” I stopped two feet away from her. “Did he tell you about the Ferrari?”

Her eyes darted toward the door, then back to me. “He said it was at the mechanic.”

“It was repossessed this morning. I watched the tow truck haul it out of my driveway.”

“You are lying.”

“Call the dealership. Or better yet, ask him why he is sitting in the dark tonight. I canceled the electricity at his loft.”

“Stop it.” She shook her head. “You are just trying to get inside my head. Julian is wealthy. He showed me his bank statements.”

“He showed you my bank statements. I severed his access yesterday.”

“Shut up!”

I stepped directly into her personal space. The heavy floral perfume she wore masked the sharp scent of fear radiating off her skin.

“Unclasp it,” I ordered.

“No.” She covered the blue stone with both hands, shielding it from my view. “I am keeping it. It is mine.”

“You are making a terrible mistake.”

“I am leaving.” She tried to push past my shoulder.

I blocked her path. “You are not walking out of this room with my family’s legacy.”

“Move!”

I didn’t waste another word.

My right hand shot up. I bypassed her defensive fingers and grabbed the thick white-gold chain directly at the side of her neck.

“Wait—” Chloe gasped.

I yanked backwards. Hard.

The metal links snapped with a sharp crack.

Chloe shrieked. She stumbled sideways against the mirrors, her hands flying up to cover her throat. Her designer clutch slipped from under her arm and hit the floor. A tube of red lipstick rolled across the tiles, stopping near my shoe.

I held the sapphire. The cold metal settled into my palm, heavy and solid. The jagged edge of the broken clasp dug into my skin. I squeezed my fist shut. The freezing touch of the gem provided a stark contrast to the heat rushing through my veins.

Chloe touched the back of her neck. She pulled her trembling fingers away and stared at them.

A thin red scratch marked her skin where the broken chain had dragged. Tiny beads of blood swelled to the surface, bright against her pale complexion.

She looked at the blood, then up at me.

A strange, breathless giggle escaped her mouth. It was an absurd sound in the quiet room. A fractured noise of sheer disbelief.

“You cut me,” she whispered, her voice wavering between a laugh and a sob.

“You refused to hand it over.”

“You are a psycho!”

I stared at the red droplets forming on her neck. My eyes burned. Not with tears, but with a bizarre, absolute calm. The chaos of the past three days crystallized into pure, freezing clarity. No more doubts. No more lingering attachments to the man I thought I was going to marry.

“I am a woman taking back what is hers,” I stated.

“I am calling the police!”

“Call them. I will gladly show them the police report I filed an hour ago for a stolen sapphire.”

Chloe dropped to her knees. She frantically dug into her spilled purse. Her hands shook violently as she retrieved her phone. Her thumb swiped across the screen, leaving a faint smear of crimson on the glass.

“I am calling him,” she threatened, looking up at me from the floor. “I am telling Julian exactly what you just did to me.”

“Go ahead.”

“He will destroy you for this.”

“He couldn’t even pay for your dinner, Chloe. How exactly is he going to destroy me?”

“He loves me!”

“Then let him save you.”

She tapped a contact name. The bright screen illuminated the dark tiles.

*Julian.*

The dial tone echoed in the hollow, marble room. One ring. Two rings.

Chloe scrambled to her feet, clutching the device tightly against her ear. “Pick up, pick up,” she muttered.

“He is probably ignoring unknown numbers,” I pointed out. “Debt collectors work late on Fridays.”

“Shut up!”

The ringing stopped. A digital click signaled the connection.

“Chloe?” Julian’s voice sounded thin and strained over the tiny earpiece. “Where are you? I’ve been trying to call you for an hour. My phone is barely charging.”

Chloe opened her mouth to speak. Tears finally spilled over her lower lashes, ruining her expensive makeup.

“Julian, you have to help me—”

I reached across the space between us. My finger landed on the illuminated speakerphone icon before Chloe could finish her sentence.

Julian’s voice flooded the marble room, thin and panicked, already asking who else was listening.