Chapter 245
Trey had only just managed to steady his breathing when a new wave of footsteps rushed into the underground garage.
Bright flashlights snapped on, cutting harshly across his face.
“Who let you in here?” a security guard barked. “You’re harassing residents. Leave immediately, or we’ll call the police!”
Trey blinked against the light, his vision still blurred from the beating.
“I… I live here—” he tried to say, but the words broke apart in pain.
Every breath dragged against his ribs. Speaking felt like being cut open again.
He had bribed his way past the gate earlier, desperate and reckless. The guards had taken the money without hesitation then—but now they looked at him like he was nothing.
Like they had never seen him before in their lives.
A cold realization settled in.
They weren’t on his side. No one was.
Minutes later, Trey staggered back to his car. His legs barely held him as he collapsed into the driver’s seat.
He didn’t even have the strength to start the engine.
His phone vibrated.
Angela.
She had called repeatedly.
This time, he answered.
“…Come pick me up,” he said hoarsely before she could speak.
There was a pause on the other end.
“What happened? Where are you?” Angela’s voice sharpened instantly.
Trey gave her the location and dropped the phone onto the passenger seat.
Then he leaned forward, resting his forehead against the steering wheel.
Pain pulsed through his body in dull waves, but it was nothing compared to the image replaying in his mind.
Khloe’s eyes.
Cold. Final. Empty of him.
It shouldn’t have been possible.
She had loved him for six years.
Six years of patience. Six years of warmth. Six years of forgiveness.
And now she looked at him like he was something beneath her gaze.
A memory surfaced without warning—one of the rare times he had tested her feelings.
“If I hurt you one day… would you forgive me?”
And she had smiled.
“Of course. You’re my husband. I love you. I won’t give up so easily.”
Trey’s lips slowly curled.
Yes.
That was the real Khloe.
Not the woman from tonight.
Not the one who looked at him like trash.
People didn’t change that easily. Love didn’t disappear overnight.
This had to be something else.
A mistake. A misunderstanding. Or—
His eyes darkened slightly.
—another man influencing her.
A slow, dangerous certainty settled in his expression.
Khloe… you’re just angry.
You’re trying to provoke me.
Let’s see how long this act lasts.
Khloe had just returned home when the doorbell rang.
She checked the peephole, then opened the door immediately.
Nick stood outside.
She glanced at the time.
“Weren’t you supposed to be in a meeting until after eleven?”
It was barely past nine.
Nick removed his coat as he stepped inside.
“Canceled.”
Khloe reached instinctively for it, but he pulled her into his arms first, draping the coat neatly over a nearby console with practiced ease.
His hold was firm—almost immediate, like he’d been holding back the entire day.
Khloe blinked. “Did something happen?”
Nick’s voice was low.
“Nothing serious.”
A pause.
Then, quieter—
“I just couldn’t stay there. I wanted to see you.”
Something in his tone made her chest soften.
She relaxed into him, arms sliding around his waist.
“You should’ve called,” she murmured. “I would’ve come back sooner.”