CHAPTER 89: GIRLFRIEND?

The hum of the sewing machines filled the design floor again after lunch, steady and rhythmic like the pulse of the building.

Threads of conversation floated between the desks — laughter, critiques, the occasional clatter of fabric rolls hitting the ground.

But in Chloe’s shared office, the mood was anything but light.

She was sitting at her desk beside Damian, flipping through her sketches without seeing them. Her mind wasn’t on chiffon layers or silhouette balance. It was on Bella — her expression, her voice, the weight in her words.

Damian was silent beside her, watching her. What was she thinking so seriously? He wondered as he remembered seeing her at the cafeteria and wanting to go join her and her friend, but then he’d seen her friend leave angrily while Chloe had spoken to Raymond before leaving too.

Was that what she was thinking about? What most have transpired? Should he ask her or stay out of it? He was still thinking of that when the sound of firm footsteps echoed down the hallway.

When Jake Stone appeared at the doorway, Chloe’s pencil froze mid-line. Damian looked up immediately, straightening in his seat. The CEO rarely came to their section unannounced, and when he did, it wasn’t casual.

Jake looked composed even in his slacks, his expression unreadable. But there was tension behind his calm: something restless flickering in his eyes.

"Miss Smith," he said evenly, his voice smooth but carrying authority. Then, his gaze shifted briefly to Damian. "Mr. Cross."

Damian rose to his feet immediately. "Mr. Stone."

Chloe blinked, standing up as well, though more slowly and warily. "Sir," she said politely, but her tone held an edge she didn’t bother to hide. "What brings you to our corner of the world?"

Jake’s eyes lingered on her. "I need a word with you, Miss Smith. Privately."

Damian glanced between them, sensing the undercurrent in Jake’s tone. He hesitated, his usual calm giving way to curiosity before nodding once. "Of course."

As he gathered his tablet, he couldn’t help but glance at Chloe, wondering what Jake wanted with her after she spoke to his brother that way at the cafeteria. Was he there to take revenge?

Maybe not. He thought when Chloe tilted her head for him to leave.

Then he gave Jake a polite nod and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

Silence settled like a curtain.

Jake exhaled quietly and turned back to her. "You don’t seem pleased to see me."

Chloe folded her arms, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips. "Forgive me, sir. You just don’t usually visit my office unless it’s about work. And I don’t recall submitting anything that would require a CEO’s personal attention."

His jaw flexed slightly. "You sound upset."

"Do I?" she asked with a lift of her brow. "You tell me."

He studied her for a moment, then said quietly, "I can feel your hostility. Yours... and Bella’s. She’s been cold to me all day, avoiding eye contact, cutting our conversations short. Going on and on about the sir and boss talk. You’re her friend, so I know you know Bella and me are past that level. But she’s been that way since morning and I can’t—" He stopped, exhaling sharply. "I can’t stand it. That’s why I’m here. I need to know what happened to upset her so much. What did I do to her, unknowingly? I want to apologize and tell her to stop being mad but how can I apologize if I don’t even know what I did wrong or how to make it right?"

Chloe stared at him for a long moment, then let out a low, humorless laugh. "You really don’t know?"

Jake frowned. "No. Should I?"

She tilted her head slightly, her expression somewhere between disbelief and anger. "Tell me, sir.... You were supposed to meet with her last night, right?"

"Yes," he said slowly. "We agreed to talk. But I never made it. I... I was at the lounge. I met up with someone and after a drink or two, everything went blank. I don’t remember much. I woke up at home and realized I’d stood her up." His voice softened, almost pleading. "I’ve been trying to apologize since morning but it seems there’s more to it than I know."

Chloe’s laugh cut through the room, sharp and bitter. "Stood her up," she repeated. "That’s what you think this is about?"

He blinked, confused. "What else could it be?"

He knew it.

"Oh, Jake," she said, shaking her head, her voice trembling with restrained fury. "You’re just like every other man who’s ever hurt her."

His expression darkened, his jaw tightening. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"I’m saying," Chloe snapped, "that you’re pretending. Just like all of them."

His voice lowered, almost pleading now. "Chloe, stop. Tell me what you mean. I need to understand. I don’t understand a word you’re saying. I never did anything to hurt her."

She took a sharp breath, anger tightening her chest. "You really want to know? Fine. Since you want to keep pretending, then let me jog up your memory a bit." She stepped closer, her eyes flashing. "You sent Bella a text last night. Your address. Telling her to come there instead."

Jake’s brow furrowed. "I didn’t—"

"Oh, don’t do that," she cut in sharply. "Don’t stand there and lie to me."

"I’m not," Jake said firmly, his voice steady despite the tension. "I never sent that message. I swear on my life, I didn’t."

Chloe stared at him, looking for a crack — a tell, a flicker of guilt — but there was none. Only confusion, layered with something else: fear.

She gave a small, incredulous laugh. "So what, you expect me to believe your phone magically texted her your address?"

He shook his head slowly, eyes narrowing in thought. "No. But... I honestly didn’t do it."

"If you didn’t," Chloe bit out. "Then your girlfriend must’ve done it! Maybe she wanted to spite Bella, or maybe she was marking her territory. Either way, congratulations! She succeeded at someone else’s detriment."

Jake’s pulse spiked. "Girlfriend? What are you saying, Chloe?"

"I’m saying Bella saw you," Chloe said, her voice trembling now, caught between anger and frustration. "She saw you in bed last night with Helena!"

If Bella wasn’t going to say, she would. She wouldn’t let him hurt Bella and pretend like he was some saint.