Chapter 10 Café de Flore and Broken Rules.
Chloe’s POV
I stood frozen in the dark living room with Liam’s words still ringing in my ears, “Make sure he never reaches her,” and something inside me snapped loud and clear because there was no way I was letting him control my dad, too.
I walked back to the bedroom quietly, slipped the phone under the pillow so that the screen stayed dark and then lay down pretending to sleep until his breathing evened out in the other room. My mind raced the whole night, but by morning, I knew exactly what I had to do: go to that café at three no matter what.
Sunlight poured through the balcony doors when Liam walked in, wearing workout shorts and carrying two plates of croissants and fruit. He set one on the nightstand like nothing happened last night.
“The conference starts at noon,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You sit beside me, smile and look like we're in love, easy.” I nodded, slowly picking at the croissant.
“Okay,” I said, keeping my voice steady. He leaned over, kissing my forehead quickly. “Good girl.” Then he left to shower.
The second the bathroom door closed, I grabbed my phone and texted Olivia fast. “Need emergency cash wired to Paris, any amount, Western Union near Ritz; please don’t ask questions.”
She replied in seconds. “On it, give me thirty minutes.” I deleted the chat, then went to the bathroom myself, brushing my teeth while Liam dressed in a navy suit. He looked handsome and perfect as always.
“Behave today,” he said at the suite door, kissing me once more before leaving with Marcus. The lock clicked and I counted to a hundred, then started moving.
I pulled on jeans, a black hoodie, a baseball cap, sunglasses and anything to blend in. I grabbed a small crossbody bag, and the money I got gifted at the conference was still inside.
I waited until the hallway camera blinked red, meaning the guard stepped away for coffee, then slipped out, taking the service stairs down twelve flights because the elevator felt too risky.
Outside, I walked fast to the metro, bought a ticket with coins, and kept my head down the whole ride to Saint-Germain. My heart hammered so loud I swore people could hear it.
Café de Flore looked exactly like the photos, with a green awning, wicker chairs and waiters in white aprons. I got there at two thirty, picked a table in the corner and ordered an espresso I didn’t drink.
Every time the door opened, I looked up. At two fifty-five, a man walked in wearing a cheap jacket and jeans, with gray hair, thinner than I remembered, but with the same eyes and that's my dad. He scanned the room, then saw me and walked straight over. “Chloe,” he said, voice cracking and sat down fast. “You came.”
I couldn’t speak at first, just stared. “You’re alive,” I finally whispered. He nodded, rubbing his hands together nervously. “I never stopped loving you girls,” he said quickly.
“I just couldn’t face what I did, the money I owed, the mess I left your mom in.” He pushed a thick envelope across the table. “I heard you're working with the Astor company. This is ten thousand euros, cash. It’s a start. Give it to Astor, quit the job, tell him you’re done and leave him.”
I took the envelope, hands shaking. I said in my mind that it is bigger than what you think. I'm in a big mess now.
“Why now?” I asked. He looked toward the door. “Kim found me, said you were in danger and told me where you’d be.” My stomach dropped. “Kim,” I repeated. He nodded. “She paid for my bus ticket here.”
We talked fast, fifteen years in ten minutes, with him hiding in Jersey, working odd jobs, sending money when he could but never enough and Mom never telling us because she didn’t want us to hate him.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he kept saying, tears in his eyes. I wanted to hug him, but the door opened again and Liam stormed in, suit jacket flapping, eyes locked on me.
He crossed the café in seconds, grabbed my arm and yanked me up hard. “We’re leaving,” he said loud enough that heads turned. My dad stood. “Let her go,” he shouted, but Liam ignored him, dragging me outside.
People stared and phones came out. “You broke my rule,” he yelled, shoving me into the back of the black car waiting at the curb. Marcus closed the door fast and pulled away.
Liam opened the envelope, counted the bills and then laughed coldly. “Just ten thousand,” he said, tossing it on the seat. “Cute, the debt with interest is four hundred now.”
I tried to speak, but he cut me off. “You think you can run to daddy and fix this?” He hit the speaker on his phone and dialed Brian. “Bro,” he said, voice tight, “Chloe tried to leave and met her father behind my back. I am so pissed off right now.”
Silence, then Brian’s voice is sharp. “Liam, you have to find a way and keep her until you need her the most. Liam, I don’t care how; lock her in a room if you have to, or you risk losing everything otherwise.
Until you get what you're aiming for from your grandfather,” She hung up. Liam looked at me. “You heard her.”
We reached a private airstrip outside the city, a small jet waiting, but Liam told Marcus, “Back to the hotel first; the flight leaves tomorrow.” The drive felt endless.
At the suite, he grabbed my phone, my passport and everything from my bag, then pushed me into the bedroom, locking the door from the outside. “No privileges,” he shouted through the wood. I banged hard.
“Liam, let me explain,” I yelled, but no answer. I heard him open his laptop in the living room, typing fast. Through the keyhole, I saw the screen, the email subject “Carter Debt, Final Notice,” and my name in the body. He was about to ruin us for real.
I stopped banging and slid down the door, sitting on the floor. Hours passed; a lunch tray came under the door and dinner too. I didn’t touch them. Night fell and I heard him on the couch watching TV with the volume low.
I searched the bathroom quietly and found a spare key taped inside the cabinet, like housekeeping had left it. Waited until his breathing turned heavy, snoring soft. I turned the key slowly and opened the door inch by inch. He lay on the couch, laptop still open, screen dim.
I tiptoed over, grabbed my passport from his briefcase on the table, plus the envelope of cash and then headed for the suite door, heart in my throat.
Hand on the handle, I turned it slowly and the elevator dinged loudly in the silent hall.
Doors slid open and Kim stepped out holding a room key, smirking widely. “Going somewhere, sweetheart?” she said, sweet as poison. Behind her, two security guys in black suits filled the hallway, arms crossed, waiting for orders. I froze, hand still on the door, because I knew right then I wasn’t walking out tonight.