Switched Bride, True Luna - Chapter 73: Chapter 73

Emily
Chloe’s name caught my eye before I even finished my first sip of tea.
Buried three pages deep into the mid-tier contractor briefings, printed in neat, sanitized font. Position awarded: Junior Advisor, Eldrin & Vale Consulting. Sector: Infrastructure Integration. Start Date: Immediate.
The tea went cold in my hand. I reread it. Twice.
The title was modest. The position was benign on paper. But I wasn’t stupid. Chloe didn’t enter into anything without an agenda.
Eldrin & Vale operated under Titanfang’s auxiliary trade network, just far enough from Logan’s direct oversight to avoid scrutiny, but close enough to touch sensitive information if someone were clever about it.
And Chloe was always clever.
I set the tea down and reached for the full attachment. The contract was legitimate. Reviewed, approved, already in effect.
It looked like a quiet placement that could be interpreted as a fresh start to anyone not paying attention.
But I knew better.
She hadn’t clawed her way back into Logan’s business just to redeem herself. She wasn’t looking for employment, she was to get closer to Logan. And now she had it.
Later, at a midday briefing, I saw her.
Chloe wore a pearl-gray suit that looked expensive, her hair styled in soft waves, not a strand out of place. She mingled with staff, charming them all with the same buttery smile she used to use on my father.
It was almost artful, the way she played humble; laughing softly, nodding as if she’d earned this place through hard work instead of manipulation.
When our paths crossed, she didn’t hesitate. “Emily,” she greeted, voice warm, almost affectionate. “It’s so good to see you in your element.”
I returned the smile, every inch of it practiced. “I hear congratulations are in order.”
She tilted her head. “Oh, it’s nothing prestigious. I’m just grateful for the chance to contribute. It’s been so rewarding watching Titanfang work on thriving with recent new additions.”
There it was—that glint in her tone. The undercurrent of condescension.
“I’m sure you’ll find ways to make your mark,” I said evenly.
“I do hope so.” She reached out and lightly touched my arm. “If there’s ever anything I can do to support you, don’t hesitate to ask.”
I let my smile cool. “That’s very… generous of you.”
Chloe moved on before I could answer properly, already laughing at something a junior associate said. But I watched her closely, noting who she lingered near, who leaned in when she spoke, who didn’t look me in the eye afterward.
The game had started again.
And this time, I wasn’t the scared girl hiding in my father’s house.
That evening, I stopped by the internal archives to pick up updated land records and found Logan already there, a folder open in front of him.
The room was quiet, lit only by desk lamps and the last slant of dusk outside the tall windows.
He looked up as I stepped inside.
“You saw the memo,” he said.
I nodded, flipping through the papers I came for. “Oh, I more than saw it, I saw Chloe. And I know it wasn’t your move.”
“No, it wasn’t.” His voice was sharp, tight. “It came through one of the outer contracting firms. I flagged it the second it hit the system.”
“She’s not here for reconciliation,” I said. “She’s placing herself close enough to cause damage—eventually. If we ignore it, she’ll slip a knife in my back.. or yours.”
Logan didn’t argue. “I’ve already limited her clearance. I’ll have the firm’s files reviewed.”
Something about his voice—flat, controlled—made me pause. He didn’t sound angry. He sounded protective.
“I won’t let her get close enough to hurt you,” he said, quieter this time. “Not while I can stop it.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. So, I just muttered, “I’m watching her, too,” and gathered my folder.
I didn’t thank him, and he didn’t ask for it. But as I left the room, I found myself exhaling a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
The threat wasn’t gone, but for the first time in a long time I didn’t feel like I was watching my back alone.
Third Person
Chloe Bennett knew how to enter a room.
The gala was modest by Titanfang standards—an industry networking event hosted by a mid-tier logistics house—but the right people were present.
Influential trade partners, Pack representatives, regional consultants. Enough chatter and champagne to blur the lines between politics and personal.
She arrived late on purpose. The marble floors had already grown warm beneath polished shoes, and the air hummed with easy laughter and practiced charm.
Perfect conditions for a reintroduction.
Her heels clicked softly as she crossed the floor, her gray silk dress flowing like mist behind her. She didn’t need to announce herself. The whispers did that for her.
Didn’t she used to be with Logan, and Emily’s ex?
She’s with Eldrin & Vale now, right? Must’ve landed on her feet.
Chloe smiled when she heard it. Not at them—just to herself. A good reputation wasn’t as useful as a curious one.
She found Logan near the gallery wing, speaking with a Beta. His shoulders were tense, arms folded—not defensive, just closed off. A man with little patience for flattery.
Still, she approached with a confident tilt of her head.
“Logan,” she said smoothly, letting his name linger like something familiar.
He turned slowly.
When his eyes met hers, they were cold in a way only people who’ve seen too much could manage.
“I didn’t realize we’d both be here,” she added with a soft laugh. “Or perhaps I hoped.”
His expression didn’t shift.
“Chloe,” he said, voice clipped.
That was all. No smile. No how are you. Not even a hint of nostalgia.
Chloe’s lashes fluttered just once. She adjusted her bracelet with practiced elegance. “I’ve been meaning to review the revised proposals. I hear Titanfang’s infrastructure model is being used as a framework.”
“They’re under internal audit,” Logan replied. “If you have questions, you can direct them to the contracts liaison.”
Dismissed. Efficiently.
He turned back to the strategist without sparing her another word.
Chloe stood still for half a second too long, her mouth gently curved even as the air cooled around her. She gave a courteous nod, stepped away with grace, and didn’t look back.
She made her way to a smaller side room where the music was quieter, the conversation darker.
Carla was waiting by the display of archival blueprints, tablet in hand and eyes sharp behind thin-framed glasses.
Chloe took a sip from her glass of champagne and let the tension slide from her shoulders. “He’s not playing this time.”
Carla didn’t blink. “He hasn’t been for a while.”
Chloe nodded slowly. “Still, image is leverage. If I can’t touch him, I’ll touch what he’s protecting.”
Carla tapped something on the tablet and turned the screen toward her. “I’ve begun circulating commentary to fringe platforms and third-tier columnists—pieces on Pack legitimacy, dormant wolves, succession ambiguity. Nothing direct. But the questions are out there now.”
Chloe’s lips curled. “Let them come to conclusions themselves. We don’t need to say Emily’s unfit. We just need people to wonder if she might be.”
Carla tilted her head. “There’s always risk in vague attacks.”
“There’s more risk in being obvious,” Chloe replied, cool and certain. “If we press too hard, she gets sympathy. If we float ideas, she gets suspicion.”
Carla gave a slow, thoughtful nod. “The long game, then.”
“Always,” Chloe murmured, swirling the champagne once before setting it down.
She looked back out toward the main floor. Somewhere, Emily was likely smiling for the cameras, surrounded by allies and unaware of the rug being tugged beneath her feet.
Let her smile, Chloe thought. She’ll be crying soon enough.