Chapter 2

The moment we walked through the front door, Ethan’s mother, Victoria, rushed straight to Chloe.

She affectionately held Chloe’s hand, opened a jewelry box, and placed the family heirloom bracelet onto her wrist.

It was something I had never received in five years of marriage. I had always assumed it was because I was too young and careless to wear it.

Now I realized they had simply never accepted me.

“Ethan already told me everything. This is absolutely ridiculous,” Victoria said in a tone full of indulgent affection.

“Chloe, darling, I always knew you two were made for each other. If it weren’t for what happened back then—”

As I bent down to take off my shoes, our eyes met, and she immediately changed the subject.

“You’ve always been his destined partner.”

Ethan stepped between them. “Mom, it’s a prank. An April Fool’s joke.”

His mother gently patted Chloe’s hand： “Well, personally, I wish this performance could last forever.”

Without saying a word, I walked straight to the bedroom and pulled out my suitcase.

I had barely packed two outfits before Ethan followed me in.

“Sarah, everyone’s here. Don’t throw a tantrum now.” He lowered his voice： “Stay for dinner tonight. Think of it as a warm-up celebration.”

I shook off his hand and continued packing.

“Tomorrow is the release day for the final book of your Nightwalker trilogy. The whole team will be here. If you disappear tonight, tomorrow’s promotional launch will be a disaster.”

I paused.

That trilogy had consumed three years of my life—countless sleepless nights rewriting drafts and starting over from scratch.

Before the copyright transfer was fully settled, a fallout now would destroy everything I had worked for.

I closed the suitcase. “Fine. I’ll stay for one meal.”

Ethan immediately brightened and walked into the living room to make phone calls.

I told myself this would simply be a farewell dinner with the team.

Not long afterward, Chloe appeared at the kitchen doorway, leaning elegantly against the frame while swirling a glass of red wine.

“Sis, since you already signed the divorce papers, shouldn’t you at least fulfill your duties as the hostess one last time before leaving? ”

“Ethan works himself to death running the company. You spend all day at home scribbling away. The least you can do is help entertain the guests.”

Ethan sat on the couch, drinking tea without saying a word.

More than half of Apex Global Media’s core assets, including the screenplay concepts major film studios fought to acquire, had been written word by word by me in this apartment.

And now, in her mouth, I had become a dead weight who merely “scribbled away” at home?

Victoria chimed in as well. “The housekeeper has the day off. Darling, help out a little. The guests will arrive soon.”

I didn’t want the team’s final memory of me to be an argument, so I rolled up my sleeves and walked into the kitchen.

My stomach was still churning, and a dull ache twisted through my lower abdomen.

I prepared the ingredients and carefully controlled the temperature before pouring oil into the frying pan.

Chloe hovered nearby the entire time like a supervisor.

“Don’t use too much wine. Ethan can’t handle strong tannins. Use baby carrots for the side dish. Don’t make it look like some country housewife’s stew.”

The editors gradually began arriving.

Jamie, one of the junior editors, finally couldn't stand it anymore. He rolled up his sleeves and started helping wash vegetables.

Chloe stopped him with a polite but sharp smile.

“Sorry, Jamie. Touching things at someone else’s private dinner party isn’t exactly professional editor etiquette. Are you trying to embarrass me in front of the guests?”

Flushed red with embarrassment, Jamie retreated back to the living room.

I placed the final dessert delicately at the center of the long dining table.

The doorbell rang just as I untied my apron.

Chloe ran to the entrance while several deliverymen carried in huge insulated containers.

“I figured Sarah’s homemade dishes might not be refined enough for everyone’s picky tastes,” Chloe said as she directed the delivery men to unpack everything.

“So I went ahead and used Ethan’s card to order Michelin-star foie gras with black truffle and caviar tarts.”

The table quickly filled with extravagant dishes.

Without changing expression, Chloe picked up the beef noodles I had just made and dumped them into the trash to make room for her luxurious Michelin cuisine.

Ethan didn’t even look up. He simply handed her a wet wipe to clean her hands.

“You’re always so thoughtful.”

I took a step forward, but someone grabbed my sleeve.

Jamie shoved his phone into my hand, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Sarah… look at this.”

It was a book cover proof sent to Jamie for review.

Above my name, “Sarah Quinn,” another name had been added:

“Chloe Hart.”