Marriage Lies and a Dangerous Obsession novel Chapter 72

Chapter 72

Chloe almost laughed. The question was absurd.

She shot him a look of pure mockery.

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“lan, you’ve held onto the ghost of Andrea for years. Don’t pretend you don’t know exactly how much it

matters.”

He released her abruptly, tugging at his collar in a gesture of sheer frustration.

“Andrea and I just crossed paths again. It wasn’t some long–awaited reunion.”

He’d agreed to bake her a blueberry cake and post that Instagram photo, and that was only to make good on a birthday wish she’d had six years prior.

Sure, seeing Andrea after all this time had stirred something up in him.

But she was sick now, tangled in depression–and all he’d wanted was to comfort her. Nothing more.

Anyway, that faint flutter in his chest wasn’t nearly enough to make him lose his senses or mess things up.

He’d kept that Instagram post up for all of sixty seconds before taking it down.

Even so, he never saw it coming: in those sixty seconds, his sister Mia had spotted it, snapped a screenshot, and sent it straight to Chloe right then and there.

He’d let everyone call that child his bastard—even though it wasn’t true–just to make sure Edward wouldn’t pull any of his old stunts on Andrea and her kid, like he had six years ago.

He’d promised Andrea he’d never let anyone find out who the child’s real father was.

But Chloe couldn’t stand Andrea. She could barely even stand the sight of that kid being around.

With him and Chloe stuck in this deadlock, one of them had to back down.

If they kept this standoff going, they’d only end up hurting each other.

When their eyes met, Chloe’s lips curled into a sarcastic smile.

‘Crossed paths, huh? What a joke, she thought. ‘You act like that’s the whole truth.

Ian moved closer, quiet and deliberate.

He locked his hands around Chloe’s shoulders, leaving her no room to escape.

His voice dropped low. “Chloe, all those soft, dreamy feelings–love, romance–if they never turn into something real, they’re worthless. When it comes down to it, it’s all about money and benefits. You can’t survive on ‘love‘ alone.”

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Chapter 72

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He pressed on, “Wouldn’t you feel safer with jewels, cash, and status in your hands than a bunch of empty

sweet talk?”

Then he said, “Chloe, I’ve given you a life where you never have to worry about a thing. I made you Mrs. Hamilton–a title no one else will ever touch. Isn’t that proof enough of how committed I am to this marriage?”

But Chloe’s thoughts were a million miles from Jan’s.

She met his gaze, her eyes clear and unwavering despite the storm inside. “Ian, what I want is to be your first choice. Not your obligation. I want the respect of you telling me the truth without me having to drag it out of you. I want you to see what hurts me and care enough to stop. I want to know that when I reach out, you’ll be there–that you’ll be loyal, that this,” she gestured between them, “actually means something. I want to be the only one in your heart. That is what makes me feel safe. That is what real commitment looks like to me.”

A wave of dizziness washed over her.

She pointed toward the door, her voice flat with exhaustion. “I’ve been grinding all day. I’m drained. I don’t have the energy to listen to your excuses or to fight with you anymore.”

Her words were barely a whisper, but they landed with the force of a verdict. “From now on, I want nothing to do with you. The farther you stay from me, the better.”

Ian held her gaze for a long, silent moment.

Then, he slowly pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. He turned and set it down on the dining table with a quiet, final click.

“Good night,” he said, his voice low and hushed.

He paused at the threshold, his hand on the doorframe.

Looking back at Chloe–fragile, pale, and on the verge of collapse–a complicated emotion flickered in his

eyes.

Unable to stop himself, he strode back across the room and pulled her into a crushing embrace.

Before she could react, he pressed a desperate, lingering kiss to her forehead.

“Chloe,” he murmured, his voice rough and strained. “Happy twenty–sixth birthday,”

Then, he released her and walked out, closing the door softly behind him.

Chloe spun around and fled to the bathroom, turning on the faucet and splashing cold water on her face.

Back when she was the one chasing him, people would say that since they were both Scorpios, they were either a perfect match or destined to destroy each other.

She used to answer with a confident swagger, insisting they were written in the stars.

They looked amazingly well–matched, their age gap was ideal, their personalities balanced each other out

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Chapter 72

seamlessly, and their educational backgrounds aligned perfectly.

But she had missed one crucial detail.

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lan’s intelligence was off the charts, and a lifetime of privilege had forged a man who was more rational, practical, and cold–hearted than most.

Deep down, Chloe had known they were a mismatch long before fan did. She just hadn’t been able to let go.

She turned off all the lights and collapsed onto the sofa, utterly spent.

Outside the door, lan lingered, making no move to leave.

Mitchell stood nearby, clutching the cake box, looking helpless. “Sir, you flew through the night to get here. Are you really just going to leave?”

lan lit a cigarette, the smoke curling into the hallway’s dim light as he leaned back against the wall. “If I stay, she won’t get any rest.”

Mitchell fell silent, taking a few respectful steps back.

lan didn’t say another word, just smoked one cigarette after another.

At midnight, he stubbed out the last one.

He straightened up, turned to face her door, and made a silent wish.

Every year on her birthday, they would make wishes together over blown–out candles.

This year, her birthday had been spent fighting and drifting apart.

He stood there in the silence for a long time before finally saying, “Let’s go.”

The next morning, Chloe left her apartment right on time.

She’d tried to conceal her exhaustion with makeup, but it clung to her nonetheless.

She noticed the pile of cigarette butts by her doorstep but deliberately ignored them, stepping over the ashes without a second glance.

She knew lan all too well.

His pride was immense; he would never chase someone who had so clearly ended things.

She was certain that if it weren’t for maintaining appearances–for the sake of his complicated ties to Andrea and the boy–he would never have tolerated her this long.

She was sure she wouldn’t be seeing him for a while.

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Chapter 72

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Chloe buried herself in her work, and before she knew it, the year was drawing to a close.

True to her expectations, lan never contacted her all this time.

Her lawyer had filed for divorce and attempted to secure a court date several times, but each was strategically delayed by lan’s legal team, who filed motions for extensions and continuances.

Furthermore, the Hamilton family’s lawyers didn’t just defend; they counter–sued, alleging Chloe had engaged in unlawful gathering of private information, turning her from the plaintiff into a defendant. They also initiated strategic, and perfectly legal, financial pressure on her parents through protracted civil proceedings.

To shield her parents from the stress and escalating legal fees, Chloe had no choice but to instruct her lawyer to pause the divorce proceedings, effectively granting Ian the delay he wanted.

At work, the one sliver of light was that after months of dedicated therapy, Arthur Logan’s chronic insomnia had finally begun to recede. For the first time in years, he was sleeping through the night–without pills, without tricks, finding real rest.

Arthur made good on his promise to Chloe.

News spread like wildfire among Europe’s elite: Chloe had successfully treated the stubborn insomnia that had plagued Arthur Logan for years.

With that single feat, she cemented her reputation as an international expert in sleep disorders.

Acting on Eric’s advice, Chloe finished her handover at work and returned home to develop her career stateside.

Wanting to surprise her family, she kept her travel plans secret.

Her flight touched down just as evening fell.

Chloe grabbed a cab and headed for her old neighborhood, stopping at a local bakery to pick up a box of fresh, gourmet donuts–her mom’s absolute favorite indulgence.

As she stepped out of the shop, she noticed the kindergarten across the street was just letting out.

Chloe paused at the curb, her gaze locking onto a familiar, commanding figure in the distance.

There was Jan, dressed in a sleek black suit, his tall frame and imposing presence making him stand out among the crowd of parents.

He was kneeling on one knee, carefully tying a little boy’s shoelaces.

He then ruffled the boy’s hair and scooped him up. “Your mom’s swamped with work today,” he said. “So I’m on pickup duty. What do you feel like eating? Just name it.”

The boy, Clint, spotted Chloe across the street and called out, “Ms. Irvine!”

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