The CEO's Entanglement

Chapter 6 - Betrayal

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Isabella

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I stand firm between Chloe and the door, my voice a desperate plea. “You can’t go like this, Chloe,” I implore, my eyes reflecting the deep concern etched across my face, but Chloe refuses to yield and screams.

“Get out of my way!” Her voice echoes through the room and tears well up in my eyes as I try to reason with her to make her understand the potential consequences of her impulsive actions.

Yet her anguish blinds her to my pleas, drowning out all reason. The escalating confrontation reaches a breaking point as Chloe, fueled by a surge of frenzied rage, shoves me aside. I stumble backward, the physical force of the push compounded by the emotional weight of the situation. My voice echoes through the hallway as she strides away in a desperate attempt.

Chasing after her, I finally catch up, grabbing her arm in more desperate pleas. “Please, Chloe, you can’t do this,” I beg, and Chloe, on the verge of breaking, turns to me, telling me she needs to.

She tells me her heart is hurting so bad that she feels like she’s going to die before continuing to add that it’s her mother’s legacy that her father has given away.

“Please, I have to,” she sobs. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Grappling with my own internal conflict, I make a decision that I know is wrong but is driven by the urgency of the moment. “I’ll take you,” I concede with a tremulous voice, and she throws herself into my arms. When we eventually pull back from the hug, I guide her to the passenger side.

I help her inside and then walk around to the driver’s seat. After settling inside, the car’s engine hums to life, and we glide out of the driveway while I pray I won’t regret this.

But I can’t even think straight at this point. Chloe has always been the strong one. She’s always been my pillar of strength, and I don’t know what to do with her when she’s like this. I've never hated anyone as much as I hate Pierre LeClaire at this moment.

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Kyler

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As my mother extols Chloe’s virtues, I find myself muttering a low “Okay.” Her insistence on Chloe’s qualities makes it apparent that she suspects there’s something between us—something I’m supposedly keeping under wraps. Chloe is undoubtedly intelligent, and beautiful, and hails from a reputable family, like my mother, which is why this resonates with her so much, but none of that matters to me. My heart already belongs to someone else.

I don’t need to pry to understand what’s going on in my mother’s head. From her perspective, Chloe fits the mold of a perfect partner—a checklist of attributes that align with her expectations for my future. But the only girl who fits my mold of perfection is Shiloh. I’m extra relieved that she’s the one, though, because this awkward conversation makes me feel like if it were anyone else, the situation might be more troubling.

Fortunately, my mother adores Shiloh like a daughter, and the worry of her thinking Shiloh is a gold digger or something similar is alleviated.

“I’m going to head to the gym,” I announce, attempting to shift the conversation away from the topic that feels increasingly uncomfortable and my mother smiles, bidding me to enjoy my workout. I nod in acknowledgment and walk away, pulling on my headphones. All I want is for them to go and come back, so I can have my girl all to myself.

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Isabella

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The car barely comes to a complete stop when Chloe flings open the door and propels herself out. Torn between staying in the car or following her, I notice the other cars in the driveway, one bearing a prominent sticker from a popular news network. The realization that there are news reporters in the vicinity propels me out of the car after Chloe.

I am immediately assaulted by a flurry of flashing lights as I step inside the hall and just then, the space transforms into a shocking chaotic press conference.

How can Chloe’s father orchestrate such an event while his daughter is still grappling with his betrayal? Something rises in my chest as I spot Chloe amid the chaos, confronting her father in the spotlight of harsh camera flashes.

The room vibrates with her piercing scream, demanding answers for the betrayal that turned her world upside down. And I weave through the maze of journalists attempting to reach her.

Her accusations echo through the hall, demanding her father answer for his deeds right here in front of the prying eyes of the reporters and he attempts to usher her away, seeking the refuge of privacy, but Chloe remains resolute.

“You called them here,” she accuses, her voice cutting through the commotion as her anguish continues to spill out in raw emotion.

She accuses her father of tearing her heart to shreds and of using her. He denies he used his daughter, insisting that his decision was purely business and that he loves her. But that seems to anger Chloe even more as her eyes blaze with fury, rejecting the cold rationale.

“You’re lying!” Her voice rises as she recounts everything she did for their family. Accusations fly as she turns to the cameras, repeating that her father is a cruel man who used her and her mother.

“He never loved my mother,” she declares while the reporters capture every nuance of the confrontation for their dramatic headlines. It’s then that Pierre finally has enough and turns toward the reporters. “Get out!” he bellows, his voice cutting through the chaos as the reporters scramble for the exit. But Chloe, undeterred by her father’s attempt to control the narrative, turns to the reporters, demanding that they stay. However, they don’t listen and continue their hasty exit.

As the last of them exit, Chloe redirects her attention to Fabrice, whom she had ignored throughout the confrontation. She rushes in front of him just as he walks toward the exit blocking his path with an intensity that matches her earlier fury.

A forceful shove sends Fabrice reeling backward, and Chloe unleashes a flurry of accusations. She questions how he dares to show up and take control after almost destroying everything. She asserts he lacks the competence required for such a role, adding that he knows that too before asking him what his actual intentions are.

Pierre intervenes, positioning himself between the feuding siblings, while the unfolding scene becomes a chaotic blur for me. I contemplate getting my best friend out of here, becoming more disgusted by the second by Pierre and Fabrice.

But before I can do anything, Pierre redirects his ire toward me. His booming command orders me out and caught off guard, I stumble toward the exit. Chloe protests, ordering me not to move, but I run towards the exit, knowing I will say something I will regret if I don’t.

As I reach the doorway, a group of men, likely security personnel, charges past me, heading inside and I barely step outside when the commotion intensifies. Chloe’s anguished screams pierce the air, protesting someone, and my heart races as I take a deep breath, leaning against the car for support.

However, the screeching of tires reaches my ears, prompting my head to snap toward the sound to see Lane. He asks me what is happening, and my words tumble out to summarize the rapidly deteriorating scene. Without hesitation, Lane rushes inside, and moments later, Chloe emerges, carried by the men I assume to be security, her screams echoing in the sky.

“Get your filthy hands off of her!” My voice pierces the tumult as I run towards the men, demanding they release Chloe in disgust, and the men comply, issuing a stern directive for both Chloe and me to leave immediately.

Chloe crumbles into my arms, her earlier rage replaced by a heartbreaking vulnerability and with a sense of urgency, I open the car door, gently guiding her inside. I accelerate, the engine roaring to life as I leave the chaos behind while Chloe leans against the seat, tears streaking her face.

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Shiloh

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Kyler’s concerned voice rings in my ears, asking if I’m okay, as I stumble out of the car and a blush creeps up my cheeks, fueled not just by the unsteady exit but also by the intensity of Kyler’s gaze on me.

Mr. Steel, for whom we were waiting, got held up, and Mrs. Steel ended up asking the driver to take us, but Kyler said he would bring us. Now, we have arrived at our destination and as we head into the towering building, Mrs. Steel and my mom lead the way, with Kyler and I trailing behind and stealing glances at each other.

He absentmindedly laces our fingers together, but I hesitate, not immediately giving him my hand, causing him to look at me. I give him a look that reminds him of our agreement earlier at home, and he steals a quick peck on my cheek, muttering a soft apology.

Holding hands has always been a natural gesture between us. But now, as our status shifts into something more, I can’t help but feel a nervous flutter in my stomach, like our parents will see through us.

I haven’t spoken to my mother yet and guilt claws at me for doing what she cautioned me against, but I wasn’t sure about my feelings when I promised. I’m sure she will understand, but I don’t want her to find out this way. I want to tell her.

Kyler faces a similar dilemma with his mother. He’s already informed his father about us, but he hasn’t told his mother. He’s going to do it tonight at the same time that I will be telling my mother.

As we ascend in the glass elevator, the panoramic view of the city unfolds before us, and the anticipation bubbles within me for the surprise that awaits. I’m even more clueless about what it could be now that we are here.

The elevator stops and we head out. My mom and Mrs. Steel are walking ahead again and the struggle to contain displays of affection intensifies with each passing moment as we follow behind them. I can feel the warmth radiating from Kyler, his thumb gently tracing patterns on the back of my hand as we stop in front of a door.

Mrs. Steel punches in the code, opens the door of the apartment and as I step inside, my eyes widen in awe. The place is beautiful, and the exquisite artwork creates an atmosphere of sophistication. I wonder whose place it is. I look at Mom, who has a bright smile on her face, but just then, a movement by the door catches our attention and we all turn to see a woman enter, carrying a tray adorned with champagne flutes.

Just then, Mrs. Steel turns to me with a warm smile and says, “Welcome to your new apartment, Shiloh.” And I freeze in my spot.

“My what?” My voice is a whisper, and she repeats that it’s my apartment and a sob rips through my throat, overwhelmed as I throw myself in her arms. I don’t know how long I cry as they all hug me before I eventually calm down, speechless. The woman pours us some champagne and my hands are trembling as I take my glass before Mrs. Steel leads me on a tour. The place is breathtaking, and it feels surreal that it’s mine.

The living room opens up to a panoramic view of the city skyline, with floor-to-ceiling windows allowing natural light to flood the space. The décor combines neutral tones to create a serene and warm atmosphere. Equipped with state-of-the-art appliances, the sleek and modern kitchen makes me itch to cook, even though I'm not good at it.

The place is spacious and everything about it is perfect. As I explore further, I become overwhelmed all over again, and I cry again, thanking Mrs. Steel, who tells me that this is a gift from both her and Mr. Steel. She adds that it’s not to say I must move out, but it’s for when I want some privacy with my friends.

Her phone rings and we break the hug and I hug my mother. When my mother and I break apart, I plop down on the bed, needing a moment to just take it all in, and Mom leaves the room, continuing to explore the place with the estate lady.

Kyler, who had remained in the other room on his phone, enters and asks if I’m okay, seeing tears well up in my eyes I cry. He sits next to me and holds me, and we stay locked in each other’s embrace for a long moment before we pull back and, after a glance around to ensure the coast is clear, our lips lock in fiery kisses.

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Author’s POV

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LeClaire Residence

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Lane’s voice slices through the lingering chaos, calling out to Pierre with an edge of disbelief. He questions the audacity of holding a press conference while Chloe grapples with devastation. But Pierre, unmoved by Lane’s inquiry, shuts down any expectation of an explanation. “I don’t have to explain myself to you."

Lane, momentarily silenced, reconsiders the boundaries. The pitch of his voice lowers while Pierre takes a measured breath, still reeling from what just happened.

“I want to be alone,” he softly says, uninterested in anything that Lane has to say, as this is a family matter and Lane says he will leave, but not without a parting word.

He came here to talk to Pierre about what he did to Chloe, but he did not expect the chaos he would walk into. So, he knows this is not a good time to share words with Pierre. But he’s already here, so he will say something.

He was just as surprised as Chloe was by his partner’s decision to put his son in charge. When they spoke many months ago, he assured him that Chloe would be the one to take over. He steps up to Pierre, who’s got his face in his hands, hunched over his desk and his voice carries a somber tone as he begins.

“I know Fabrice is your son and like any other father, you want him to be the head of the family, but this is a terrible decision.” Lane highlights the inherent risks of entrusting Fabrice with the reins of the family business. He reminds Pierre of the near-disastrous consequences of the last time Fabrice assumed a leadership role.

He tells Pierre that Chloe, with her proven capabilities, is the natural choice for succession. But before he can conclude his cautionary plea, something in Pierre snaps, lifting him from his previously slouched position. He stands upright, facing Lane with a blazing intensity in his eyes.

Seeing the fire in Pierre’s eyes, Lane tells Pierre that, as a business partner and a friend, he must offer a word of caution. However, before Lane can articulate the full extent of his concern, Pierre cuts through the verbal exchange, stepping forward and invading Lane’s personal space before delivering a verbal blow that knocks the wind out of Lane.

“Good business partner or good boyfriend to my daughter or whatever it is that you call yourself,” Pierre’s words hang heavy in the air and the revelation leaves Lane momentarily speechless. “You think I’m stupid?” Pierre continues, the accusation echoing through the room. “That I would just hand over my life’s work without knowing who was in my daughter’s life? Do you think I got to where I am by being stupid?"