Back From Prison, Built For Revenge - Chapter 53: Chapter 53

Chloe stared at her phone screen, Yael's name glowed there. The cold blue light reflected on her face, mirroring her tangled emotions.
Her fingertip slid to unlock the screen, and her eyes scanned the brief message. [Chloe, I'm hosting dinner for a few friends tonight. Come join us.]
"Should I go or not?" Chloe murmured to herself. The seemingly simple question felt like a thorn lodged in her heart, aching at the slightest thought.
That awkward meeting with Yael at the café two days ago kept replaying in her mind.
Yael's attitude was so unpredictable—sometimes as warm as a summer breeze, other times as cold as winter frost. Chloe didn't understand him, nor did she want to dig any deeper.
'What exactly does he want from me?' she wondered.
Chloe rubbed her temples, trying to calm the storm inside. Finally, she sighed and tossed her phone back onto the table.
'Alright, I'll go,' she decided. 'Running away won't solve anything. Facing it head-on is the only way out.'
That night, at the entrance to the private room in the exclusive club, the dazzling lights illuminated the bustling crowd.
Crystal-clear lighting reflected off exquisitely crafted yet hollow smiles—everyone was cloaked in pretense. While the scene appeared lively, an underlying chill of indifference hung in the air, nearly suffocating.
Chloe appeared in a black evening gown, the skirt outlining her slender, tall figure like a stark, cool silhouette. She walked in black heels, each step measured and unhurried, yet she radiated an unmistakable air of detachment.
Just as Chloe reached the private room's entrance, a familiar, grating voice rang out. "Oh, isn't that Ms. Quinn? Already putting on airs, and you're not even married yet. You really are something else."
Chloe turned toward the voice and saw Quella standing nearby, a champagne flute in hand.
Quella wore a lemon-yellow cocktail dress and beamed, but that smile was as thin as veneer—the mockery in her eyes so blatant she couldn't be bothered to conceal it.
Chloe paused, a faint, enigmatic smile playing on her lips. "Not married yet?" she drawled out, her voice deceptively soft, like velvet, yet sharp as a razor's edge.
Then, with a glint in her eye, Chloe added, "Are you projecting yourself?"
Quella's smile froze for a split second before she quickly regained her composure. Swirling her champagne glass, she said airily, "I don't have your knack for keeping Hayden utterly obsessed with you."
"Obsessed with me?" Chloe cast her a cold, indifferent glance, her tone nonchalant. "Bark all you want. I usually tune it out."
Chloe's scathing words made Quella's face instantly darken. She gripped her champagne glass so tightly her knuckles palened. "You—" Quella snapped, her voice trembling with anger.
Just as tensions between Chloe and Quella reached a boiling point, a lady stepped in, her voice gentle yet firm. "Now, now, that's enough, both of you."
Xena approached with a champagne flute in hand, dressed in a lavender evening gown with impeccable makeup and her signature cordial smile.
"This is Mr. Foster's gathering, after all," Xena said smoothly. "It would be quite inappropriate if you two made a scene here."
Quella huffed in displeasure and reluctantly stepped aside, but her eyes still shot daggers at Chloe.
Xena tugged at Quella's arm and whispered, "Don't be rash. Take it slow. Tonight's a golden opportunity."
Quella gritted her teeth, swallowing her rage for now.
The private room was bathed in dazzling lights as high society mingled, glasses clinking in endless toasts.
The crisp chime of crystal, low murmurs of conversation, and the gentle hum of background music blended into an ostensibly harmonious scene—yet an inexplicable tension hung thick in the air.
Yael stood at the center of the crowd, impeccably dressed in a tailored navy suit.
Champagne flute in hand, he mingled and laughed with the guests, yet his gaze kept darting toward the entrance, a barely concealed anticipation in his eyes.
The moment Yael saw Chloe step into the room, an unmistakable glint of excitement flashed in his eyes.
But the emotion lasted only a few fleeting seconds before he expertly concealed it. Setting down his glass, he strode forward and greeted her warmly, "Glad you could make it."
"Mr. Foster, you certainly know how to enjoy yourself," Chloe said calmly, her tone laced with detachment.
Yael offered a faint smile, said nothing more, and gracefully gestured for Chloe to take her seat.
After a few rounds, the atmosphere grew livelier.
Chloe maintained an aloof composure, exchanging desultory pleasantries with those around her. Yet she could feel certain eyes relentlessly fixed on her—their burning intensity laced with malice, leaving her utterly on edge.
Quella, who had been quietly observing from the corner, suddenly rose to her feet. Raising her champagne flute, she announced to the crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, I have a question for Ms. Quinn."
The private room fell deathly silent, all eyes snapping to Chloe.
Chloe lifted her gaze to meet Quella's, but deliberately remained silent.
Quella's voice was soft, yet every word carried clearly throughout the room. "Ms. Quinn, care to explain why you're always hounding Hayden?"
The moment those words left her mouth, the room erupted in murmurs. Guests began whispering among themselves, some even exchanging knowing smirks.
Chloe set down her wine glass, her icy gaze locking onto Quella like a dagger. "Are you certain you want to spout such nonsense here?"
"Nonsense?" Quella sneered. "Isn't it the truth? Otherwise, why would Hayden—"
Before Quella could finish her sentence, a glass of ice water was splashed in her face without warning.
The entire room gasped in shock, all eyes instantly locking onto the culprit, Demi.
"Oops, my hand slipped," Demi deadpanned, not sounding the least bit sorry.
The room instantly erupted into chaos—some stifled snickers behind their hands, others exchanged awkward glances. Quella, utterly humiliated, clutched her drenched cheeks, glaring daggers at Demi and Chloe.
Quella shrieked, but before she could finish, a steely voice cut through. "Enough."
Everyone turned toward the voice to see Hayden standing at the room entrance, his expression thunderous.
He strode to the center of the room, sweeping his gaze around. When his eyes landed on the drenched Quella, his frown deepened. "What's going on here?" he demanded.
"Hayden, perfect timing." Quella immediately wailed, her voice trembling with feigned distress. "She—"
Before Quella could finish, Chloe cut in icily, "Mr. Stone, do you really think I'm the kind of person who would hound someone?"
Hayden remained silent for a long moment, offering no reply. But his silence only thickened the awkward tension in the air.