The Employee I Married Was a Billionaire Heir

Chloe Watkins leaned closer to the mirror, her hand steady as she applied the final, perfect coat of ruby-red lipstick. The woman staring back at her had eyes bright with anticipation.

Tonight was the night.

On her dresser sat a small, velvet box. Inside was a watch she had saved for three months to buy, a sleek, designer piece for her boyfriend, Carson Barber. A surprise for their two-year anniversary.

Her phone screen lit up. 7:00 PM.

He was already thirty minutes late.

A small frown creased her brow. She dialed Carson's number. It went to voicemail after a single, abrupt ring. He had hung up on her.

Her stomach tightened.

She called again. This time, he answered, his breathing heavy. Noise echoed from his end of the line. "Hey, Chloe, I'm so sorry," he rushed out. "Something urgent came up at the office. A last-minute meeting. I might be really late."

"Carson, we've been together for two years," she said, the disappointment a sharp sting. "You knew what today was."

"I know, I know, and I feel terrible. Just focus on work first, okay? I'll make it up to you," he promised. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

Though her heart sank, she forced a gentle tone. "Okay. Just... be safe."

She ended the call and stared at the candlelit dinner for two growing cold on her small dining table. A sigh escaped her lips.

Then, an idea sparked. She would bring the celebration to him.

From the refrigerator, she carefully retrieved a chocolate lava cake she had baked herself, placing it gently into a pastry box.

She kicked off her heels, slid into comfortable flats, and grabbed the gift and the cake. A quick cab ride later, she was on her way to his apartment.

A sweet smile played on her lips as she pictured the look of surprise on his face when she showed up.

The taxi pulled up to his building. She paid the driver and hurried inside, her heart fluttering.

In the elevator, she checked her reflection, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She wanted to look perfect.

She walked down the hallway to his apartment door, her excitement building with every step. As she raised her hand to knock, a strange sound from within stopped her.

It was a woman's laugh. Soft, but unmistakable. It was followed by a low, breathy moan.

Chloe's heart plunged.

It's the neighbors, she told herself. It has to be the TV.

Her hand, now trembling, slipped into her purse and found the spare key Carson had given her months ago. She inserted it into the lock and slowly turned it. The door opened a few inches.

She peered through the crack. The living room was dark, but a sliver of warm, dim light escaped from under the bedroom door.

The sounds were clearer now. The woman's voice was one she knew as well as her own.

It was her sister, Jacey Watkins.

The blood in Chloe's veins turned to ice. With a hand that felt disconnected from her body, she shoved the door wide open.

The sudden noise from the entryway startled the people in the bedroom. The sounds stopped.

A moment later, Carson emerged from the bedroom, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. His hair was damp and messy.

His eyes widened in panic when he saw her. "Chloe? What are you doing here?"

She didn't answer. Her gaze shot past him, fixed on the bedroom behind him.

Jacey peeked out, wearing nothing but one of Carson's oversized dress shirts. When she saw Chloe, there was no shame in her eyes. Only a flicker of triumphant cruelty.

A sharp crack echoed in the silent apartment.

The cake box and the gift slipped from Chloe's numb fingers, splattering chocolate and cream across the floor. A dark, messy stain, just like the one spreading through her chest.

The room spun. She grabbed the doorframe to keep from collapsing, her breath catching in her throat.

"Chloe, listen to me," Carson stammered, rushing toward her. "It's not what you think..."

But Jacey stepped out, leaning against Carson's tense body. "Brother-in-law," she purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "What's the point in hiding it now? I love him. And he loves me."

Carson froze. He didn't push Jacey away.

His silence was the confession.

Chloe stared at the two of them, a grotesque portrait of betrayal. Two years of her life, of her love, had just become a punchline. Her world was cracking, splintering into a million pieces.

She took a ragged breath, fighting back the metallic taste of bile rising in her throat. She lifted her chin, her eyes turning to chips of ice.

She didn't scream. She didn't cry.

Her voice was a raw, quiet rasp.

"Carson," she asked, "when did it start?"