Chapter One
967 Words
Chapter One
Chloe stood at the doorstep of her old apartment, shocked by the sight — or rather by the person sitting comfortably on her couch.
She could hear her heart throbbing beneath her ribcage.
Troy Mikealson.
The one man that was once her salvation, but now her kryptonite.
And Andrea's father.
"What are you doing here?" she snarled roughly, looking at the man that destroyed her life and her family, the same man that scarred her forever from being with any man.
On hearing the voice of the woman he had dreamed of for years, Troy stood up from the couch and faced Chloe.
His eyes, a deep ocean blue, stared piercingly at her, not wanting to miss out on her expression while maintaining a cool and confident grace.
"Hello to you too, Chloe."
"Don't hello me, Troy! What are you doing in my apartment? How did you find me? How did you get into my home?"
"One question at a time, Chloe. One question at a time," he said, walking closer to the door.
Feeling him come closer to her, Chloe felt like turning around and bolting away. But she didn't.
This was her house.
Her and Andrea's home.
And nobody, not even Troy, was allowed to come in here and destroy it, just like he did her father's life.
"Get out of my house, Mr. Mikealson!" Chloe said, putting on a brave front.
"I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart."
"Don't call me that."
"I will call you whatever I want to call you."
"And you'd best get inside. We have something important to discuss, and you wouldn't want your neighbours to hear of it, would you?"
Hearing the hidden barbs in his words, Chloe couldn't help but feel even more frustrated. What gave Troy the right to come into her house and threaten her? Hadn't he already done enough?
Looking down at her watch, Chloe noted it was almost time for Andrea and Miss Evelyn to be back from school.
And on no account was Troy allowed to see Andrea.
So she pushed Troy aside and stepped into her home, locking the door behind her before walking to the sofa placed far from the couch Troy had been sitting on.
She couldn't be close to him.
"Let's get married."
Chloe felt she may have heard wrong.
"What did you say?"
"I said let's get married," Troy repeated. "I'm not asking for your permission. We are getting married, Chloe Gomez."
When she failed to answer, he sat down by her side and, watching her face, he dropped a bombshell on Chloe. "I suppose you tell me about the child."
Seeing her shock and refusal in the way her soft lips tightened, he pursued relentlessly. "For instance, whose child is she?"
"Mine!" Chloe retorted fiercely.
"I assume your daughter has a father. I'd like to know his name." When he got no response, he warned softly, "I have every intention of knowing the truth, so you might as well tell me."
A name sprang to Chloe's mind, from a romance novel she'd recently been reading.
"All right, if you must know, her father's name is Paul Martin."
Just for a fleeting moment, Troy looked visibly shaken, and she hugged herself. Perhaps she wasn't such a bad liar after all.
"Then why are you living on your own, excluding your nanny, that is?"
"Paul is married."
"I wouldn't have thought a married man was your type."
"It isn't. It was a short affair that ended the moment I found out he had a wife and kids."
'Lying seems to come naturally when you have something important to hide,' Chloe thought internally.
His eyes narrowing, Troy asked, "What's he like?"
"Tall, honey-skinned and very good looking. He's Italian. Rea takes after him." Catching her breath in a silent, horrified gasp, Chloe wished frantically that she'd kept quiet.
Troy, who never missed a word she said, murmured, "Rea? That's a nice name. What's it short for?"
"It's not short for anything," Chloe denied quickly.
"Really? I thought it might be a pet form of Andrea."
"Well it isn't." Chloe regretted the stupid emotions that had led her into naming her daughter as Troy would have wished.
"So how old is Rea?" he asked smoothly.
Knowing her only hope was to convince Troy that he couldn't possibly be Rea's father, she lied, "Three years."
"She looks older," Troy said.
"How do you know she looks older?" Chloe asked anxiously.
He rose to his feet and took a large brown envelope from the top of the table that had been lying there since he arrived, which Chloe hadn't noticed. Resuming his seat on the couch, he passed it to her.
With shaking fingers she opened it. It contained a large number of photographs. Some were of herself and Stacy, others of Miss Evelyn and Rea, and others of Rea on her own, all taken at different locations, all perfectly clear.
"Where did you get these?"
"My private detectives took them. Rea is a lovely child, and big for her age — in fact she looks four and a half. What do you say?"
"She's always been tall," Chloe defended.
Collecting the envelope and slipping the photographs back into it, he tossed it back onto the table and shook his head. "It's no use, Chloe. I know she was christened Andrea, and she even looks like me and my mother."
Chloe sat still, as though she had been turned to stone, her hands clasped tightly together, her knuckles turning ivory white.
"You must hate me very much to have deprived me of my own child for years," Troy said quietly.
Feeling an unspeakable despair, Chloe whispered, "I loved you once, until you gave me a cause to hate you."
"And vice versa, Chloe."
- Writer
