Back From Prison, Built For Revenge - Chapter 33: Chapter 33

Stone Villa.
A cold breeze swept past her ear. The black sedan pulled away smoothly, but her gaze remained fixed on the closed front door. That door had once led to her home; now, it was an ice-cold barrier, sealing her off from everything inside.
Sadie hurried out to greet her, a professional smile on her face that couldn't quite hide the complex emotions in her eyes. "Miss, you're back."
"How is my grandmother?" Chloe's voice was calm, her eyes locked on Sadie's, as if trying to read the truth from her expression.
Sadie paused for a second before looking down. "Mrs. Stone is resting," she said softly. "She hasn't been well these past few days. The doctor said she needs plenty of rest."
Chloe's brow furrowed slightly, but her face quickly returned to its placid state. "I understand. I won't disturb her." Her tone was detached, failing to conceal a flicker of disappointment. She turned and walked into the villa, her back ramrod straight.
The living room was brightly lit. Demi was pacing in front of the French windows. Hearing footsteps, she spun around and rushed over the moment she saw Chloe. "Miss!" Her voice was a mix of excitement and anxiety. "You're finally back. I thought—"
"You thought I wouldn't come back?" A faint, cold smile touched Chloe's lips.
Demi hesitated, then lowered her voice. "I was just worried about you... this is the Stone family's house, after all."
"And?" Chloe raised an eyebrow, looking at Demi's worried face with a hint of detachment. "You think I shouldn't have come back?"
"That's not what I meant." Demi shook her head quickly. "I was afraid... afraid they'd do something to you again."
"Don't worry," Chloe said dismissively. "I'm not the same little girl they could push around three years ago."
Demi looked up at her. The dark eyes that stared back were filled with a steely resolve and coldness, a world away from the innocent, naive Chloe of three years prior. For a moment, she was at a loss for words and could only nod silently.
They walked up to the second-floor hallway together, their footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. Chloe suddenly stopped and turned to Demi. "You should leave the Stone family," she said, her tone calm but unyielding.
Demi was stunned. "Why?"
"Because this place is a sinking ship, and I don't want you going down with it," Chloe's voice was low and cool. "Especially now that I'm about to marry Yael Foster. The relationship between the Fosters and the Stones... you know it better than I do."
"But, Miss—"
"Don't call me Miss," Chloe cut her off. "I'm not a Stone anymore."
Demi bit her lip, her eyes turning red. "I'm sorry, but... no matter what happens, I won't leave you. I made up my mind a long time ago. I'll stick with you through hell or high water."
Silence filled the room. Moonlight streamed through the window, casting their long, lonely shadows on the floor. Chloe sat by the window and said no more, her gaze lost in the deep night outside.
A commotion erupted from downstairs. Servants were busy carrying in all sorts of expensive gifts, from antique paintings and calligraphy to fine jewelry. The presents sent by the Foster family piled up, making the spacious living room feel cramped.
Phoebe, a wide smile on her face, directed the servants to sort and place the gifts. Standing to one side, Yolanda folded her arms, her expression a mixture of disdain and jealousy. "Wow, they really went all out," she sneered. "Looks like our dear 'sister' is quite the favorite of Mr. Foster."
Hearing this, Chloe, who had just started down the stairs, paused. She slowly looked up at Yolanda. "If you're so jealous, you can marry him instead." Her tone was light, but the words were a dagger to the heart.
Yolanda's face went pale. She forced a cold smile. "Are you kidding? Marry some invalid? No thanks. I'm not that into martyrdom."
"Oh?" Chloe arched an eyebrow, her gaze as cold as ice. "So you know he's unwell. Then why did you tell him where I was? So he could keep hounding me?"
The accusation hung in the air, stunning everyone into silence. All eyes turned to Yolanda.
She froze for a beat before regaining her composure. "I was just trying to help." She feigned innocence. "Mr. Foster likes you so much, I just wanted to give him a chance to get closer to you, to help things along."
"A chance to help things along?" Chloe scoffed. "Or did you just want me trapped under his thumb so you'd have one less obstacle in your way?"
The remark made Phoebe's face turn ugly. She quickly stepped in to mediate. "Alright, that's enough, both of you. Yolanda is young and doesn't know any better, don't hold it against her." She then turned to Chloe, her tone soft but laced with a warning. "As for Mr. Foster, he's just a little frail, it's nothing serious. This marriage is good for all of us. You should appreciate it."
"Appreciate it?" Chloe let out a derisive laugh. "Appreciate a man who might not even see next year? Or should I appreciate this little business deal you've all cooked up?"
The air instantly froze. Even the servants held their breath, not daring to make a sound.
A low, chilling voice broke the stalemate. "Enough." Hayden walked in from the dining room, his face a thundercloud. Every step he took seemed to land on everyone's last nerve. He stopped and stared down at Chloe. "Watch your attitude. This is the Stone family's house, not a place for you to make a scene."
Faced with his fury, Chloe was fearless. She met his gaze, her dark eyes showing no sign of retreat. "Make a scene? I wouldn't have to if someone hadn't set me up first."
Their gazes clashed, sharp and hostile.
In the end, it was Hayden who looked away first. He took a deep breath and spoke in a voice tight with suppressed rage. "Don't forget, without the Stone family, you're nothing. We saved you three years ago. Now it's your turn to make a small sacrifice for the family. What's the problem?"
"Saved me?" Chloe laughed, the sound dripping with sarcasm and sorrow. "Three years ago, you all knew I was framed, but you chose to let me take the fall anyway. If that's what you call 'saving' me, then forgive me if I'm not overwhelmed with gratitude."
A dead silence fell over the room. Even Yolanda, who always played the part of the fragile victim, looked flustered.