Chapter 2

Adrian's face hardened, the brief shock replaced by a familiar coldness. The air in the penthouse grew heavy.

"Ellery," he said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. "Don't make me repeat myself."

"You don't have to," I replied calmly. "I heard you the first time."

I remembered how he got when he was angry. His jaw would clench, and a muscle would twitch in his cheek. He always thought his anger was a weapon, something to scare people into submission.

It used to scare me. I would start apologizing, trying to smooth things over, desperate to bring back the calm, indifferent Adrian I was used to. Anything was better than this cold fury.

But now, looking at his clenched jaw, I felt nothing. No fear. No anxiety. Just a distant, clinical observation.

"You're testing my patience," he warned.

"Am I?" I gave a small shrug. "The necklace is mine. I'm not giving it to her."

He was stunned into silence again. He expected me to crumble, to apologize, to obey. My quiet defiance was something he didn't know how to handle.

He turned to the butler, his voice laced with venom. "James, take the necklace off her. Now."

James, who had served my family for thirty years, went pale. "Mr. Payne, I can't do that."

Adrian took a step toward him. "You work for me in this house. You'll do as I say, or you'll be looking for a new job tomorrow. Do you understand me?"

"Sir, Miss Beard is the heiress of-"

"I own this penthouse," Adrian cut him off, his voice echoing in the large room. "Everything in it, including the people, belongs to me. Do it."

James looked at me, his eyes full of apology and fear. Adrian's family was powerful. A threat from him was not to be taken lightly.

He took a hesitant step toward me.

"Don't you dare touch me," I said, my voice low but firm.

James froze.

Adrian's patience snapped. He strode over and grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my skin. He tried to unclasp the necklace himself.

I struggled, pushing against his chest. "Let go of me, Adrian!"

The feeling of his hands on me, trying to rip something away from me for Cassie, filled me with a rage that burned away the last five years of submission. My cheeks flushed with humiliation and anger.

He finally ripped the necklace from my neck, the delicate chain breaking. He dangled it in front of Cassie.

"Here," he said, his voice returning to a gentler tone as he addressed her.

Cassie, who had been watching the whole scene with wide, innocent eyes, now put on a show of concern. "Adrian, don't be like this," she said softly. "Ellery is upset. We shouldn't..."

"It's just a necklace," he said dismissively, not even looking at me. "If she wants one, she can buy another."

He turned and draped the necklace around Cassie's neck himself. Then, without another word, he took her hand and walked out of the penthouse, leaving me standing there, a red mark blooming on my neck where the chain had broken.

The silence they left behind was deafening. The eyes of the household staff were on me, a mixture of pity and curiosity.

I stood there, my back ramrod straight, and refused to cry. I would not give him the satisfaction. I walked slowly, deliberately, to my room, each step feeling heavy, like I was wading through thick mud.

I remembered all the other times he had humiliated me. The time he canceled our anniversary dinner because Cassie called him, crying about a broken nail. The time he gave a speech at a major tech conference and thanked everyone in his life but forgot to mention me, even though I was sitting in the front row. The time he "joked" to his friends that I was clingy and insecure, while I was standing right there.

I had swallowed it all. I had made excuses for him. I had convinced myself that I was too sensitive, that I was the problem. I was so sick with my love for him that I couldn't see the truth.

I was a fool.

But not anymore.

That night, Adrian didn't come home. It wasn't unusual. He often stayed out, and I had long stopped asking where he went.

I was scrolling through my phone, checking the status of my flight, when I saw Cassie's latest social media post. It was a picture of her, wearing my necklace. The caption read: "Some gifts are just meant to be. Feeling so loved tonight. ❤️"

In the background, I could see the familiar decor of Adrian's favorite private club.

A year ago, a post like this would have sent me into a spiral of tears and anxiety. I would have called him a hundred times, begging for an explanation, for reassurance.

I remembered how Cassie had always done this. She'd post pictures with subtle hints of her time with Adrian-a glimpse of his watch, his car, a location only I would recognize. Each post was a carefully crafted dagger aimed at my heart.

And it had always worked. I had suffered. I had cried. I had fought with Adrian, who would then accuse me of being jealous and crazy.

Tonight, I just looked at the picture and felt... nothing. A small, humorless smile touched my lips. It was almost funny, how pathetic her attempts to provoke me seemed now.

The cage of my obsession was gone. I could see her for what she was: a petty, insecure woman clinging to a man who was just as broken as she was.

Let them have each other.

All I wanted was to get on that plane. All I wanted was to find my Kellen.