Chapter 137 Chapter 137
Chapter 137 Chapter 137
Chloe’s POV
Jack.
I kept walking, but he moved quickly and stepped in front of me near the reception desk.
He looked different. Thinner. Dark circles under his eyes. Anger simmered beneath the surface of his expression.
“You think you won?” he said coldly.
“I’m not playing a game,” I replied.
He let out a bitter laugh. “You paraded into that company and stole everything.”
“I didn’t steal anything.”
“You stole my father,” he snapped. “You stole my place.”
His eyes dropped briefly to my stomach.
“And now you’re carrying his child like some trophy.”
I stiffened.
“You need to stop,” I said quietly.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“You’re still mine,” he said, his tone shifting from anger to something disturbingly possessive. “You were mine first.”
I felt a chill run down my spine.
“I was never yours,” I said firmly.
“You’re lying,” he insisted. “You loved me.”
“I thought I did,” I replied. “That was before I saw who you really were.”
His jaw tightened.
“You think I won’t take you back?” he asked.
I stepped back slightly.
“You need help, Jack.”
His hand twitched like he wanted to grab me, but he stopped himself when he noticed the hospital staff watching from behind the desk.
“You belong with me," he said, almost to himself. “Not him.”
“I don’t belong to anyone,” I answered.
For a moment, he just stared at me, breathing unevenly.
“If he dies,” he said quietly, “you’ll come back.”
The words felt like a threat.
“He’s not going to die,” I said.
Jack’s expression darkened.
“You don’t know that.”
I walked out from him without another word.
As I stepped outside into the cool night air, my chest felt tight again.
The company was rising.
The contracts were secured.
The finances were stabilizing.
But the war wasn’t over.
Not even close.
Margaret did not take the news quietly.
She heard about the new properties before the press did. Someone always told her everything. The company’s financial surge, the expanded international contracts, my revised executive package, the purchases. It traveled through the same social circles she once ruled.
She showed up unannounced one afternoon.
I was in my office reviewing a restructuring proposal when my assistant rushed in, flustered.
“She insists on seeing you,” she whispered.
Before I could respond, the door swung open.
Margaret walked in as if the room still belonged to her.
She looked immaculate, as always. Perfect hair. Perfect posture. But beneath it, I saw it clearly.
Jealousy.
Raw and unfiltered.
“So this is what betrayal buys,” she said, her eyes sweeping across the office, then settling on me.
I closed the file slowly.
“If you’re here to discuss company matters, you need an appointment.”
“I’m here to discuss with you,” she replied sharply.
I stood up.
“You seem to be doing very well,” she continued, her voice tightening. “New houses. New cars. Promotions.”
“I’m doing my job.”
“You’re capitalizing on my husband’s accident,” she snapped.
“I stabilized a company that was collapsing.”
Her jaw clenched.
“You think this makes you powerful?”
“It makes me responsible,” I said calmly.
Her gaze dropped to my stomach.
“You even secured your future,” she added bitterly.
I felt the familiar tension rise but refused to let it control me.
“You had twenty-seven years to secure yours,” I replied quietly.
That struck harder than I expected.
Her composure cracked.
“You’re nothing but a homewrecker who got lucky,” she hissed.
“And you’re a woman who built her life on lies,” I answered evenly.
She moved suddenly, faster than I anticipated, her hand flying toward my face.
I stepped back just in time, catching her wrist midair.
“Don’t,” I said firmly.
Her eyes burned with fury.
“You think you can take everything from me?” she demanded.
“I didn’t take anything that wasn’t already broken,” I replied.
She tried to pull free, but I held her wrist steadily.
“You lied about Jack’s paternity,” I continued quietly. “You signed off on fraudulent transfers. You manipulated the board. You tried to send me to prison.”
Her breathing became uneven.
“And now you can’t stand that I survived.”
She jerked her hand free finally.
“You ruined my life,” she said, her voice trembling not with power but with rage.
“No,” I corrected softly. “Your secrets did.”
For a moment, she looked like she might lunge at me again.
Instead, she leaned in close enough for me to smell her perfume.
“This isn’t over,” she whispered.
I didn’t flinch.
“It never is,” I replied.
She stepped back, her eyes scanning my face as if searching for weakness.
She didn’t find any.
When she finally turned and walked out of the office, the air felt lighter.
But I knew one thing clearly.
Margaret was not jealous because I had money.
She was jealous because I had control.
And for the first time in her life, she did not.
After she left, the silence in my office felt heavier than before.
I remained standing for a few seconds, staring at the door she had slammed behind her. My pulse was steady, but something beneath it had shifted.
Margaret was no longer just angry.
She was desperate.
Desperate people are dangerous.
I walked back to my desk slowly and sat down, resting both hands on the polished surface. Through the glass walls of the office, I could see employees pretending not to stare. Word would spread within minutes that she had come here again.
I pressed the intercom.
“Please make sure she’s escorted out of the building and not allowed access without prior approval,” I said calmly.
“Yes, ma’am,” my assistant replied.
Ma’am.
The title still felt strange, but I did not correct it.
I leaned back in the chair and allowed myself a slow breath. My body feels heavier these days. Five months pregnant. The baby shifted gently, almost as if responding to my rising tension.
“I’m okay,” I murmured under my breath, resting a hand over my stomach.
The truth was, I wasn’t entirely okay.