Back From Prison, Built For Revenge - Chapter 35: Chapter 35

Hayden's face was a dark storm cloud, his fingers trembling as he clutched his teacup. Chloe's cold indifference was a constant assault on his pride. He took a deep breath, trying to force himself to stay calm, but the rage inside him only burned hotter.
"That's enough, Chloe!" he roared, slamming the cup down on the coffee table. It shattered, the sharp crack echoing through the living room.
Chloe merely shot him a sideways glance, her eyes devoid of any emotion, as if the man having a tantrum in front of her was a complete stranger.
"Hayden, if you think breaking things proves your authority, I'd save your energy," she said, her voice quiet but dripping with a sarcasm he couldn't ignore.
"You—" Hayden was left speechless, his chest heaving. He took a step forward, ready to argue, but a delicate yet firm hand pressed down on his shoulder.
"Hayden, that's enough," Mrs. Stone said. She wore her usual serene, maternal smile, but her eyes were as cold as ice.
"Mom, she—" Hayden turned to his mother, his voice thick with anger and frustration.
"I said, that's enough!" Phoebe snapped, her voice sharp and her elegant features hardening with authority. "Look at yourself. The heir to the Stone family, throwing a tantrum over nothing. What will people say if this gets out? Have you no shame?"
Hayden clamped his jaw shut, saying nothing more, but his fists clenched tighter at his sides.
Chloe watched the scene unfold with a smirk. She knew this so-called "mother" of hers wasn't defending her; she was just doing damage control for the Stone family's pristine reputation. She glanced down at the porcelain shards by her feet, then brushed an imaginary speck of dust from her skirt, acting as if the entire ordeal had nothing to do with her.
"Well, since Mrs. Stone has spoken, I won't interrupt your 'family' reunion any longer," Chloe said lightly, turning to leave.
"Stay right there," Phoebe's voice rang out again. She quickly walked over to Chloe, her smile strained. "Chloe, dear, you just got back. Perhaps some things were said in the heat of the moment, but we're all family. Can't we talk things out?"
"Family?" Chloe arched an eyebrow, a flash of irony in her dark eyes. "If we were truly family, why didn't you treat me like one back then?"
The question made Phoebe's expression freeze for a second, but she quickly recovered. "Let's not dwell on the past," she said softly. "What matters now is the future."
"The future?" Chloe let out a soft laugh. "You mean my future marrying into the Foster family to secure more benefits for you?"
Even Hayden, who had been stewing in silence, looked shocked. He hadn't expected Chloe to be so blunt.
"Chloe, you've misunderstood me," Phoebe's voice remained gentle, but a flicker of panic crossed her eyes. "The gifts from the Fosters are a sign of how much they value you. We just want you to appreciate that."
"So, what are you planning to do with all these gifts?" Chloe changed the subject, gesturing toward the mountain of luxury shopping bags in the corner. "Are you sending them to my apartment, or are you and Yolanda planning to split the loot?"
The question landed like a thunderclap, plunging the room into a dead silence. The maids all looked down at the floor, trying to disappear, while Phoebe's face turned an ugly shade of pale.
After a long moment, she managed to force a smile. "Since they're for you, the decision is yours, of course."
"Then I'd appreciate it if you had someone send them to my apartment," Chloe said, her tone casual but carrying an authority that couldn't be refused. "After all, I wouldn't want to take up space in the Stone family's home."
Phoebe swallowed her anger and nodded. "Fine. I'll arrange it."
Chloe gave a curt nod, said nothing more, and walked out of the living room. Behind her, two people—one seething with rage, the other riddled with anxiety—could only watch her go.
Later that night, Hayden stood outside his mother's bedroom door. He raised his hand, hesitated, then knocked.
"Come in," Phoebe's voice called from within.
He pushed the door open and saw his mother at her vanity, removing her makeup. Her well-preserved face looked tired under the soft light. "Mom, I need to ask you something."
"What is it?" Phoebe put down a cotton pad and looked at her son.
"Why are you letting Chloe get away with this?" he asked, his voice filled with pent-up frustration. "She's using the Fosters as leverage to do whatever she wants in this house. If this keeps up, something bad is going to happen."
Phoebe's brow furrowed slightly. "Hayden, do you think I want this? We can't afford to get on the Fosters' bad side right now. The consequences would be far more serious than you can imagine."
"But—"
"No buts," she cut him off, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Remember, everything we do is for this family. If your impulsiveness plunges us into a crisis, can you bear that responsibility?"
Hayden was silenced. He clenched his jaw, staring at the floor.
"But if this continues," he said in a low voice, "she'll have us wrapped around her little finger."
"Don't worry. I know what I'm doing," Phoebe sighed, then stood and patted his shoulder. "Now, that's the end of it. Don't bring it up again."
In the study, Yolanda was sitting across from her brother, scrolling idly on her phone. "Hayden, Mom is just trying to do what's best for everyone," she said placatingly. "Don't be so angry."
"Best for everyone?" Hayden scoffed. "You mean best for kissing up to the Fosters."
Yolanda put her phone down and said carefully, "Look, I also think Chloe has been a bit much lately, but... we're family. We can't just burn that bridge, can we?"
"Family?" he sneered. "If we were family, she wouldn't have turned out like this."
Yolanda lowered her eyes, a faint smirk playing on her lips before she hid it. A moment later, she looked up, feigning innocence. "Honestly, brother, I can kind of understand why she's acting this way. I mean, after everything she's been through... now that she finally has some power, of course she's not going to let us off easy."
Her words hit their mark, stoking his anger. He shot up from his chair and slammed his hand on the desk. "So that gives her the right to make our lives a living hell?"
"No, that's not what I meant at all," Yolanda said quickly, waving her hands in a show of panicked innocence. "I just think... maybe we should find a chance to talk to her properly, so things don't get any worse."
Looking at his sister's fragile, pleading face, Hayden finally let out a long sigh. "Forget it. I'll figure out a way to handle this."
Chloe was sorting through the mountain of designer bags and jewelry the Fosters had sent over. Demi stood nearby, wringing her hands nervously. "Ma'am, these things... are you sure you want to give them to me?"
"Of course," Chloe said, handing her a small, elegant Cartier box. "They don't mean anything to me, but maybe you can get some use out of them."
Demi's hands trembled as she took the box. She looked up at her boss, her eyes shining with gratitude. "Thank you, Ma'am."
"Don't mention it," Chloe said with a faint smile, then leaned back on the sofa and closed her eyes. After a moment, she spoke in a low voice. "Demi, thank you for always being by my side. I honestly don't think I would have made it this far without you."
Hearing this, Demi felt a prickle in her nose and fought back tears. She could only nod in silence.
The next morning, Chloe went to the old Stone Villa to visit her grandmother, Evelyn.
The moment she walked in, she put on a mock-penitent face. "Grandma, I hope I didn't embarrass you yesterday," she said, a playful glint in her eye. "You know, with the scene I made at the main house."
Evelyn pulled her granddaughter's hand into her own, giving it a firm, reassuring squeeze. "Oh, honey, don't you dare apologize," she said, her voice firm. "You did exactly what you needed to do. They've had this coming for a long, long time."
A warmth bloomed in Chloe's chest. It was a flicker of genuine family affection, something she hadn't felt in so long. For the first time in years, a small part of the cold, lonely wall around her heart began to melt away.