Betrayal

Not far away, she saw the woman's black lace underwear intertwined suggestively with a pair of bright red boxers.

She wouldn't be naïve enough to think this was some kind of strip show between a man and a woman.

The clothes were strewn about so chaotically and intimately that just looking at them made her blush, further fueling her imagination of the intense passion that had erupted here.

The sounds coming from inside the room were clear, as if to confirm her worst fears. Each moan, louder than the last, made it impossible for her to pretend she didn't understand.

"Amos, Amos... ah..." The woman's voice, laced with desire, called out sweetly.

The response was a series of deep, heavy breaths.

Chloe's face turned deathly pale. She bit her lip hard, her vision blurring as her trembling hands gripped the phone tightly.

How absurd. She had been waiting for him since 5 PM, anxious and restless, not even drinking a sip of tea just to be ready for him.

She struggled to move her feet forward, refusing to believe that the man would treat her this way.

Grabbing onto her sleeve, no matter how humiliated she felt, Chloe was not one to retreat. Carefully stepping over the scattered clothes on the floor, each step felt like a dagger to her heart, as if she wasn't treading on the floor but on her own soul.

The sounds in the room grew more intense, and she could clearly smell the suffocating stench of lust in the air, making her want to vomit.

She forced herself to hold back, slowly raising her head. In the center of the room, on a large double bed, a man and woman were entangled.

The man's broad, strong back was facing her, obscuring his face, while the woman's flushed face and vivid red lips moved sensuously. Bold and seductive, she arched a brow and met Chloe's gaze.

The woman wasn't surprised at all. Instead, she raised her voice, a smug smile playing on her lips, her eyes filled with mockery.

The man finally collapsed like a deflated balloon.

In that instant, Chloe felt dizzy, her mind going blank as if she were about to suffocate and die.

That face—she knew it all too well. She had seen it since she was born, for over twenty years. She would recognize it even if it turned to ashes.

Flora Miler! Her younger sister!

It's really her! She didn't mishear! Chloe fought back the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

Her tall frame trembled uncontrollably. She used all her strength to grip the phone, as if it was the only thing keeping her upright, her back straight.

But the phone slipped from her hand, hitting the floor with a soft "thud."

Amos noticed something and slightly lifted himself, turning his face to the side.

Chloe realized Amos was about to turn around, and suddenly, she panicked. She wanted to run! She didn't want to see that face, didn't want to believe that the man with her sister was him...

But it was too late... Before she could take a single step, that familiar face appeared before her eyes.

That face was just as stunningly handsome as the first time she had seen it.

But now, that face filled her with dread.

His sweat-soaked bangs clung to his forehead, his eyes still hazy with the remnants of passion.

When his eyes met Chloe's, his brows furrowed slightly as if in pain. He rubbed his forehead, looking at the woman beneath him with confusion in his eyes.

Chloe couldn't stay a moment longer. The strength that had been drained from her body suddenly returned.

She forgot to pick up the phone from the floor and turned to flee as if escaping a monstrous beast.

***

The bustling night scene of the city and the intoxicating music seemed to fade away into nothingness. Chloe's world had turned completely blank.

All she could think about was running away, desperately trying to escape... escape...

Beep beep—

Honk honk—

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

"Get the fuck outta here!"

Cars screeched to a halt as Chloe recklessly dashed across the street, causing a chorus of angry shouts and the sound of tires skidding.

But she couldn't hear the outside world at all, and all she could think about was her deceased father's wishes before he died.

"Chloe, a man doesn't have to be wealthy; as long as he has a sincere heart, that's enough. You must always beware of those men who are beasts in human clothing. Don't be fooled by their sweet words and handsome appearances..."

After her father's death, she had treated his advice as his last will.

Three years! Amos had pursued her relentlessly for three years. No matter how cold or even cruel she was to him, he seemed unaffected, always meeting her icy demeanor with a warm smile.

For three years, she had guarded her heart, never wavering.

The man believed in the adage that sincerity could move even the hardest of hearts, convinced that even if Chloe was as cold as stone, she would eventually warm up to him.

And so, it wasn't until she graduated from university that his sincerity moved her, and she cautiously handed over her heart.

For someone like her, who was so careful and unwilling to take a leap easily, once she committed, she did so with all her heart and soul.

That's why, when she saw her closest sister and the man who had sworn to love her for a lifetime tangled together, her fragile heart shattered instantly.

He had said, "Chloe, you are my moon, and I am the stars that twinkle around you. Each one represents my true heart."

But just three months after she had finally offered him her warm heart, he had trampled on it, leaving it bloodied and broken.

"Liar... liar..." She covered her face, tears seeping through her pale fingers.

"This is your first heartfelt gift to me. I'll treasure it and keep it close always."

"Haha..." Chloe laughed and cried like a madwoman.

—It was all bullshit lies!

"Chloe, tomorrow, I'll give you a Valentine's Day you'll never forget. Trust me!"

Indeed, of all the countless things he had said, perhaps only that one sentence was true.

It was definitely a different Valentine's Day, one she would likely never forget, one that would be etched into her bones and soul.

"Dad..." She collapsed by the fountain, calling out desperately, "I was wrong, so wrong... It hurts so much... so much..."

It was because she hadn't heeded her father's teachings that she was now experiencing this gut-wrenching, soul-crushing pain once again.

The last time she had felt such heartache was when her father had died because of her.

But this time, the pain seemed even more unbearable, leaving her gasping for breath, on the verge of suffocating...

Mistook

A week later

Blues Bar, located on a somewhat secluded street, hadn't always done well in business, but ever since Chloe started working there, the place had become more popular by the day.

Her music was like a spell, capable of calming people's anger, bringing them joy, and making them feel completely at ease.

For an entire week, Chloe had been missing. The bar owner, Mag, had tried calling her so many times that her phone was nearly dead, but she still couldn't reach her.

Customers were growing more restless, almost to the point of tearing the bar apart.

Tonight, the bar was packed again, and with only five minutes left until showtime, there was still no sign of Chloe. Mag was starting to sweat with worry.

Standing on her toes, Mag anxiously scanned the bar, and finally, she saw a figure dressed in white appear around the corner. She couldn't contain her excitement and shouted, "She's here! Chloe's here!"

Instantly, the bar fell silent. As Chloe stepped inside, hundreds of pairs of eyes followed her every move. She was a bit taken aback.

After a brief moment of silence, thunderous applause erupted.

She felt a bit overwhelmed by the attention. Naturally quiet and reserved, Chloe had always been cautious in this mixed crowd, but the regulars had grown accustomed to her presence and enjoyed communicating with her through her music.

Nodding slightly, Chloe sat down at the piano. Instantly, her slender, pale fingers began to dance across the keys, producing a stream of smooth, powerful, yet graceful notes that filled the room. The guests seemed enchanted, their worries melting away.

At some point, the music began to change, causing the patrons to stop whatever they were doing and fixate on Chloe as she played quietly. Her expression remained mostly unchanged, her eyes downcast, revealing only the slight tremor of her long lashes.

The music sounded like a lament, a mournful wail, as if it were crying out in pain, evoking a sense of heartbreak in those who listened.

***

At midnight, Chloe finished her shift. She closed the piano lid as Mag approached her.

"Chloe, are you in some kind of trouble?" Mag was a widow in her thirties, warm-hearted and sincere.

Chloe smiled faintly, her lips curving into a gentle crescent, "Mag, I'm sorry about this past week, I—"

"No need to explain," Mag interrupted. "If it wasn't absolutely necessary, you wouldn't have done this!"

Mag glanced toward the entrance, not seeing the man who usually came to pick up Chloe every day, Amos. "Let's wait a bit longer; the person who usually picks you up isn't here yet."

A sharp pain shot through Chloe's heart, but she maintained a soft smile. "No, it's fine. I'll go on my own." There was a bittersweet sadness to her smile.

Noticing the change in Chloe's music tonight, Mag, who had seen all kinds of people and events in her life, had already guessed what was going on. She patted Chloe on the shoulder and said, "If anything happens, don't forget you still have me."

"Mm." Chloe smiled gratefully.

Raising her head, she saw a tall figure at the door, and the faint smile froze on her lips. Mag followed her gaze to the man at the entrance—he was no longer the dashing, handsome man he used to be. His hair was disheveled, and stubble covered his face.

Chloe's expression disappeared, and suddenly, a cold indifference enveloped her. She drifted past the tall man at the door like a wisp of white smoke.

Seeing the distant, ethereal look in her eyes, Amos suddenly felt a sharp pain. He had a sense that his Chloe was slipping away like a wisp of smoke, drifting out of his world forever.

His eyes turned red in an instant. He reached out with his long arm and grabbed her delicate, pale wrist.

"Chloe, we need to talk." His voice was hoarse and raspy.

Chloe slowly lifted her eyelids, casting a faint glance at the man—or rather, her gaze passed right through him, distant and ethereal. She didn't say a word, just tried to pull her wrist free.

Her wrist was so slender and fragile that it seemed like it would snap with the slightest twist, so Amos quickly released her.

"I was wrong, but I truly love you. I was drunk, and I mistook her for you!"

Grabbing Chloe's hand, Amos shouted, his frustration and self-loathing clear in his voice. He was furious that Chloe wouldn't listen to his explanation.

"Ha…" Chloe laughed through her tears. Her newly dried tears started to fall again, big and heavy. She quickly wiped them away, her bloodshot eyes sharp as daggers, staring at Amos's handsome face as if wanting to cut it open to see if there was blood underneath that mask.

Mistook her?

He claimed he mistook her!

Could someone truly in love make such a mistake?

She didn't want to shed another tear for this man, but the dull ache in her heart was impossible to ignore.

Chloe's laughter sent chills through Amos, her mockery piercing his heart. He couldn't stand her sarcasm. He tightened his grip on her hand, leaving her wrist red.

"Chloe, please don't do this," Amos pleaded, a tear slipping from his eye. He quickly turned away, not wanting her to see it.

"Take your hand off!" Chloe's voice was icy, her entire body bristling like a porcupine. She yanked her hand free and immediately wiped it with a tissue, as if his touch had dirtied her.

"Chloe…" Her actions deeply hurt Amos. Was he really that filthy? After all, wasn't it common for men to have multiple women? And he hadn't done it on purpose!

Chloe gritted her teeth and growled, "Shut up! Don't humiliate me anymore!"

Betrayal was betrayal, with no excuses and no chance for forgiveness.

Not sparing him another glance, Chloe straightened her back and walked away with her head held high.

"Chloe..." The man let out a pained cry, his eyes moistening. His moon had truly forsaken him. Without the moon, how could the stars shine?

No!

He wouldn't allow it!

He got up and followed her from a distance, knowing her temperament all too well, too afraid to approach. He wished he could cut his flesh into pieces and feed it to the dogs, then carve out his heart and offer it to her.

But it was too late. Last night, when he had climbed into that bed, he had lost that privilege.

Could he tell her that it was because he loved her too much, loved her to the point of drunkenness, to the point of madness, to the point where his intelligence was reduced to zero, that he had ended up in the wrong bed?

Even he couldn't believe such an excuse, so how could he make her believe it?

Chloe, I hate you!

Later.

When Chloe opened the door, she felt utterly exhausted, wanting nothing more than a bath and some rest. To her shock, she found herself face-to-face with a heavily made-up face on the sofa.

The sight stunned her so much that she nearly dropped her bag.

It was the first time she'd seen her since that day. Just the sight of that face made Chloe recall the image of them entwined together, and instinctively, she wanted to avoid it.

Flora was quicker, grabbing her hand. "Chloe! Stop!"

Chloe stared blankly at the face in front of her.

"Let go!" She didn't want to get entangled with her. She didn't hate her sister; she only hated herself for believing a man's sweet lies.

Chloe felt none of the heartache she expected. Flora, red with anger, shouted, "Chloe, you heartless monster! I slept with your man! I was FUCKED your man! Are you blind or deaf?"

How could she not feel pain? She had slept with her man just to make her suffer—to suffer so much that she couldn't breathe, so much that she would scream to the heavens, so much that she would wish for death. Only then would Flora feel satisfied.

But things didn't go as Flora had expected, and her frustration gnawed at her, like a thousand cats clawing at her heart.

"If you want him, he's yours from now on," Chloe said calmly, her face expressionless as if the matter had nothing to do with her.

This reaction completely crushed Flora.

"Chloe, I hate you! I hate you!" Flora broke down, sobbing. "You heartless monster, you're the one who killed Dad and ruined our family…"

How could this cold and unfeeling woman be her sister?

Flora's tears streamed down her face.

Dad had favored her so much when he was alive! But how could she not shed a single tear after causing his death? Flora hated her!

The boys at school worshipped her sister like a goddess. Men who once fawned over Flora would abandon her without a second glance after seeing Chloe. She hated that!

Amos was the man Flora had set her eyes on first, but like all the others, he too, after seeing Chloe, no longer spared Flora a glance. And Chloe, so proud and indifferent, disdained any man who approached her. Yet these men would still grovel, eager to please her! She hated that!

She hated how Chloe had stolen all the attention, the glory, and the man. She hated how Chloe had killed their father, made their mother a widow, and brought their once carefree family to ruin overnight. They had to sell their house and move into a slum, and now Flora was forced to work and endure the scorn of others to survive.

And throughout all of this, her sister remained cold, seemingly unaffected. She carried on with her serene, noble facade.

Flora hated it! She hated how Chloe could feel nothing while Flora suffered so much!

She refused to believe that Chloe had no heart, that she couldn't feel pain! So, she would tear off Chloe's false mask of nobility. She wanted to see Chloe bleed from the pain!

How could Chloe remain so calm after witnessing her man in bed with her sister on Valentine's Day?

"Chloe, you're not human—you're a devil!"

Flora shoved Chloe hard and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Watching the door shake, Chloe's lips curved into a faint smile as she walked into the bathroom and submerged herself in the water.

She wasn't human. She was heartless. She was a devil.

Maybe that was true.

She knew Flora hated her. No! Not just Flora—her mother and brother did too.

Their father had been a professor at a university. On that stormy night, Chloe had been struck by a sudden high fever, feeling so ill that she cried out, "Daddy, I'm in so much pain—I'm dying..." Her words had terrified him, and he had rushed out into the rain to fetch a doctor, only to be struck down by a car…

Since then, their world had collapsed.

Their mother lost the husband who had adored her, and the three siblings lost the father who had loved them most.

In a single night, their family had fallen from the heights of happiness into the depths of despair.

Their mother became withdrawn, her gaze toward Chloe filled with sorrow. Her sister and brother grew to despise her.

How had it come to this? How had she killed the father who loved her most? If only she hadn't been so willful, if only she had endured the pain a little longer, would her father still be alive?