Chapter 18 - The Broken Doll
With Victoria in custody and the police clearing the Grand Palais foyer, Chloe was left standing alone by the shattered remains of her champagne flute. The fashion crowd stepped around her as if she were carrying a contagion. Editors, influencers, and former sycophants who had once kissed her cheek in Milan walked past without a single glance.
She was alone. Truly, irrevocably alone.
I walked over to where she stood trembling, Matteo lingering a few paces behind me to give me the floor.
"Claire..." Chloe stammered, tears carving black tracks through her mascara. "Claire, please. You have to believe me. Julian promised me everything. He said you were a dried-up spinster who never loved him, that the company was his. And then Victoria... Victoria threatened to destroy my family if I didn't testify for Julian's retrial!"
I looked down at her. In her eyes, I didn't see an evil mastermind. I saw a hollow, shallow girl who had sold her soul for front-row tickets and borrowed jewels, only to realize that when the music stopped, monsters like Julian and Victoria threw their toys directly into the furnace.
"I don't hate you, Chloe," I said, my voice quiet and calm. "Hate requires respect, and you have earned none."
"What am I supposed to do?" she wept, grasping at my silk sleeve. "Nobody will hire me. The modeling agencies canceled my contracts. I have nowhere to go."
I gently, deliberately detached her fingers from my sleeve.
"You are twenty-four years old," I said evenly. "You stole a man, you wore stolen heirlooms, and you tried to put an innocent woman’s life in ruins for your five minutes of fame. What you do now is learn to work for what you want, instead of lying on your back to take it from others."
I turned on my heel and walked away. Behind me, Chloe collapsed onto the bench, burying her face in her hands as the cleaning crew began sweeping up the debris of her shattered vanity.
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"You were merciful," Matteo noted as we reached the double doors leading into the rainy Paris night.
"No," I replied, taking his arm. "Mercy would have been saving her from herself. Leaving her to face her own mediocrity is the greatest punishment she could ever receive."
