Chapter 3

I glanced down at my watch. Three in the morning. Brandon wasn't coming home tonight.

Early the next morning, the sound of revving engines and cheerful chatter echoed up from the driveway, cutting through the quiet house.

When I walked downstairs, Brandon was busy directing a crew of movers, bringing boxes into the foyer.

He was actively hauling my personal belongings out the front door to clear space for Bella’s things.

Bella stood on the porch holding a large dog on a leash, looking at Brandon with that familiar, starry-eyed admiration.

Pet hair floated through the sunlight. I immediately covered my nose and mouth with my sleeve.

"What is she doing here?"

Brandon finally glanced over, his tone so casual you would think moving a coworker into our marital home was the most normal thing in the world.

"A pipe burst in her apartment. The landlord can't fix it right away."

"So she had nowhere else to go except our house? What about a hotel? Corporate housing? A CEO can't afford a single hotel room?"

My sharp questions caught him off guard. Brandon opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Bella chimed in abruptly, a smug little smirk playing at the edge of her lips.

"Chloe, company housing doesn't allow pets, so I had to beg Brandon for a place to stay."

"Just for a week! Once the waterproofing is done, I'll move right out."

Seeing me covering my face, she tilted her head with fake innocence.

"Are you afraid of dogs, Chloe?"

"Don't worry, Buster is super gentle."

With that, she casually let go of the leash.

Free of restraint, the massive dog bounded straight toward me.

The air seized in my throat. Panicking, I ducked behind Brandon, the familiar constriction tightening in my chest.

"Get her and that dog out of here right now," I wheezed, fighting for air. "I'm deathly allergic to dog hair."

I caught the flash of disbelief and disgust across Brandon’s face.

"Allergic to dogs? You'll make up any pathetic lie just to kick someone out, won't you?"

My eyes burned, a heavy pressure building behind my temples, but not a single tear fell.

How could he possibly pretend not to know? Our medicine cabinet had been stocked with antihistamines all year round.

Once, when we were walking in the neighborhood, an off-leash dog had brushed past me. I had sneezed violently and broken out in hives. The very next day, Brandon had arranged for local animal control to sweep the area and set up feeding stations miles away just so a stray would never come near our street again.

He used to remember everything. That didn't stop him from conveniently forgetting now.

Brandon reached out and affectionately patted Bella’s head, a fond smile breaking out on his lips.

"Always so clumsy. Hold onto the leash properly."

Bella stuck her tongue out playfully, leaning into his touch. "Well, you're always too sweet to stay mad at me, Brandon."

I cleared my throat, raising my voice to an icy pitch:

"Brandon, get her and that dog out of this house."

"This is my home."

Impatience flashed in his eyes. He looked at me as if I were a spoiled child throwing a tantrum.

"She’s already going through a hard time. Do you really have to be this cruel?"

I was completely done arguing with him. Red, blotchy hives were already erupting along my arms, itching like crazy.

I turned toward the pile of boxes Bella had brought in, grabbed a nearby aluminum baseball bat from the umbrella stand, and smashed it down with all my strength.

Glass bottles and ceramic containers shattered inside the boxes, crack after crack ringing through the foyer.

"If you don't move it out, I'll smash every single piece to dust."

Brandon gasped, lunging forward to grab my wrist in a vice grip. "Have you lost your damn mind?!"

"I gave you a choice," I snapped, wrenching my arm free from his hold.

Bella let out a sharp cry of pain from behind him, clutching her forearm dramatically.

"A glass shard... I think it cut my arm."

Brandon didn't even have time to yell at me. He immediately rushed over, gently guiding Bella up the stairs toward the master bathroom to disinfect her tiny scratch.

I had zero interest in sticking around to watch their domestic drama. I grabbed my purse and called an Uber straight to the urgent care clinic to treat my allergic reaction.

Before I walked out the front door, I uploaded the video I had discreetly recorded on my phone and sent it directly to a prominent business tabloid.

If Brandon Vance refused to understand plain English, I wasn't going to spare his reputation.