His Ninety Ninth Broken Promise

I didn't go back into the lodge. That night, for two grueling hours, I dragged my frozen, numb body down the mountain until I stumbled into the nearest airport hotel.

Not another call from Rex. Not a single text.

The next day, I arrived at the gallery early, preparing the liquidation and handover documents.

Rex was the gallery's primary benefactor; I was merely the artist who managed it. I’d been with him since before he was a tech titan, yet my existence was still a footnote.

If I left, he probably wouldn't even notice.

Just as I was about to type the final sentence, Rex appeared behind me. I met his gaze without flinching, nonchalantly clicking away to a different document on my screen.

He stared at me, his voice icy. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing important. Just drafting a few exhibition proposals," I answered breezily.

Rex frowned but didn't seem to sense anything was amiss. "Chloe, come with me." He turned and strode toward my office.

The moment my name left his lips, my assistants started whispering. "Oh no, looks like Chloe's in for it with Mr. Blackwood again," one murmured.

Everyone here assumed Victoria was Rex’s public-facing partner. Very few knew I was the real fiancée.

Inside my office, Rex glared at me. "What's the big deal? So I didn't make it to the lodge," he scoffed. "Are you really going to throw a tantrum and not even come home over something so insignificant?"

I shook my head. "The weather in Aspen was bad. I couldn't get back."

It was partially true, but mostly an excuse. I had no intention of going back. I had already decided to leave for good.

The profound shift inside me went completely unnoticed. After a tense silence, he spoke again. "That portrait commission... I've arranged it for you."