Chapter 8: No Strings Attached?
347 Words
Ethan hadn’t planned to stay at the party.
But somehow, he hadn’t left either.
Maybe it was Chloe’s infuriating smirk... or the way everyone looked at her like she ruled the world. Maybe it was the part of him that hated being played.
He stood by the window, watching her from a distance. She laughed with producers, charmed directors, and commanded attention with effortless grace.
But then she slipped away.
He didn’t even realize he was following her until they were alone on the rooftop—Chloe lit only by moonlight and city glare, holding a glass of champagne like a weapon.
“You followed me?” she teased, not turning around.
“You left your game downstairs. Didn’t want your fans to miss the show.”
She sipped her drink. “You think this is a game?”
“I think you don’t know what you want.”
She turned, gaze sharp. “I do. I just don’t wait politely for it.”
He took a step closer, voice low. “And what exactly do you want from me?”
Her smile faded. The wind tugged at her hair.
“You.”
Silence.
But then— “Not because of the engagement. Not because of some childhood promise. I want you, Ethan Walker.”
He stared at her.
“And what if I say no?” he asked.
She moved closer. “Then I’ll wait. Or steal you. Or seduce you. Pick one.”
He laughed bitterly. “You’re unbelievable.”
Chloe tilted her head. “You’re angry because I’m not pretending. But I don’t do fake. Not anymore.”
He studied her, searching for cracks—but all he found was raw honesty.
It scared him more than any scandal ever could.
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Meanwhile, Mila watched from the shadows of the rooftop door, fists clenched.
She saw the way Chloe looked at Ethan. The way he didn’t walk away.
Mila’s eyes narrowed. This wasn’t part of her script.
She had fought too hard to be number one.
She wouldn’t let Chloe Reed win. Not again.
- Writer
