Back From Prison, Built For Revenge - Chapter 56: Chapter 56

Chloe stood at the doorway of the yacht bedroom, arms crossed, her gaze icy. She didn't step inside, but leaned forward slightly, poised like a drawn bow, radiating a sharp, cutting presence.
Inside the room, Quella lay curled up on the bed, her disheveled hair clinging to her pale face. The soft bedroom light did little to hide the profound exhaustion and stubborn defiance in her eyes.
"Are you really sure you still want to trust Yolanda?" Chloe's voice was soft, almost tender, but the calm in her tone cut like an ice blade, chilling the air around them.
Quella looked up at her, her dim eyes holding suppressed pain and quiet resolve. Her lips trembled slightly, but she forced her voice steady. "She's my best friend. I trust her."
Chloe let out a low chuckle, a smile spreading from her lips to her eyes, utterly devoid of warmth. She stepped into the room with slow, elegant strides, each step landing like a weight on Quella's heart, radiating an unseen, suffocating pressure.
"Is that so? Do you still remember how you fell into the water?" Chloe stood still by the bed, towering over her, her eyes glinting with scrutiny.
Quella's pupils contracted sharply, her fingers unconsciously clutching at the blanket. She parted her lips as if to speak, but in the end, she merely lowered her lashes. "I-I just slipped. It was my fault."
"Slipped?" Chloe scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You? Lose your footing? Please. Or have you just gotten used to making excuses for Yolanda?"
The air grew heavy with tension. Quella's fingers tightened around the bedsheet, bunching the fabric into a tight ball in her palm. She remained silent, but the subtle unease was betrayed by the faint tremble of her lashes.
Chloe stared at her for a moment. Instead of pressing further, she slowly leaned down and whispered into Quella's ear, "Did it ever occur to you that while you were thrashing desperately in the freezing ocean, what happened?
"She was up on deck faking a faint—just to make sure help would arrive a little too late?"
The words struck Quella like a bolt from the blue, shattering every shred of her feigned composure.
Quella jerked her head up, eyes wide with shock and disbelief. "That's nonsense. Yolanda would never do that—she would never hurt me." Quella cried out.
Chloe's lips curled into a serpentine smile that sent chills down the spine. "Never hurt you, huh?"
Chloe straightened, hands in her pockets, her gaze glacial. "Then explain this. Why did she just happen to faint the moment you fell into the water? And why was her swoon so perfectly timed to divert all attention away from you?"
Quella opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her mind was a mess—logic told her Chloe was just trying to drive a wedge between them, but those images, those little details, kept replaying in her mind.
Yolanda was standing on the deck, the panic on her face, the moment she suddenly collapsed. It all just seemed far too coincidental.
"M-Maybe it was just an accident," Quella murmured to herself, her voice barely above a whisper. Even she didn't believe her own words.
"Just an accident?" Chloe scoffed under her breath. Turning to the corner, she picked up medicine, then returned to the bedside and thrust it at Quella. "Take your medicine."
Quella didn't take the cup. She just stared at it in a daze, then looked up at Chloe, her eyes clouded with fatigue and suspicion.
"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, her voice tired and uncertain. "What's in it for you to come between me and Yolanda?"
Chloe looked down at her, a faint, knowing smile playing at her lips. "Driving a wedge between you? Perhaps. But I simply can't stand to see you continue to be used like this."
"Using me?" Quella scoffed, her tone laced with sarcasm and distrust. "What makes you so sure you're not the one pulling the strings?"
"Believe what you will," Chloe said, her tone still flat. She set the cup of medicine on the nightstand, straightened up, and looked down at Quella with an imperious air.
"But let me remind you. Yolanda is not as simple as you imagine. If one day you realize you're nothing but a pawn in her game, I hope you're ready to face that truth," she added.
With that, Chloe turned to leave but paused at the doorway.
Glancing back over her shoulder, she added in a breezy tone, "Oh, and one more thing—I'm marrying Yael. So rest assured. I've no interest in fighting Yolanda for scraps, nor will I meddle in your affairs again."
The words snapped Quella out of her thoughts. "Marry Yael?" she blurted, jerking her head up in shock.
Chloe glanced back at her, her deep eyes glinting with mockery. "What, something wrong?"
"No." Quella shook her head, her expression a tangled mix of emotions. "Yael is not a decent man. Are you really going to marry him?"
"A decent person?" Chloe scoffed, a desolate humor in her voice. "Is there really such a thing as a decent person in this world? It's nothing but a transaction of interest."
Before her words had even faded, Chloe pushed open the door and left, leaving Quella stunned in her seat, her face frozen in shock and worry.
The room returned to silence, with only the faint steam rising from the cup. Quella stared at it for a long time, her mind churning with Chloe's words. 'Is Yolanda really not as innocent as she seems?' she wondered.
Just as Quella was spiraling into confusion, the door was suddenly flung open.
Yolanda rushed in, her face etched with frantic worry as she hurried to the bedside. "Quella, are you alright? You scared me to death. I was so worried about you."
Quella looked up, her icy gaze fixed on Yolanda's face. Unlike her usual self, there was no trace of gratitude or trust. "Fine," she said flatly.
Yolanda was stunned by this unprecedented distance. She tried to explain, but Quella cut her off. "I'm fine now. You can go," Quella said, her tone glacial.
"Quella, has someone been talking to you?" Yolanda pressed, her voice tinged with desperation. "Please, don't listen to anyone trying to turn us against each other. I truly care about you."
"That's enough." Quella's voice suddenly rose sharply. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and when she spoke again, her tone was calm but laced with a chilling distance.
"I'm tired, Yolanda. I don't want to hear this anymore. I need to rest. If you're really my friend, please—just give me some peace and quiet," said Quella.
Yolanda parted her lips, but no words came—utterly defenseless. After a tense silence, she clenched her jaw, biting back the bitter resentment and seething anger churning within her.