Loved You Once But He's My Forever (Chloe) novel Chapter 423

We held each other tightly, Whitney trembling with emotion.

"Chloe, did she hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine," I reassured her.

Whitney, unconvinced, let go of my hands and circled me, inspecting every inch as if to make sure I was unharmed. Only after confirming I was fine did she finally exhale in relief.

Taylor, still nursing his bleeding wrist, looked equally astonished. "She didn't lay a hand on you?"

I glanced at the wound on his wrist, evidence of Whitney's fierce resistance, though he seemed entirely indifferent to the pain.

"Not only did she not hurt me," I said with quiet confidence, "but she'll send me back herself. Do you believe that?"

Taylor's brows furrowed, but after a moment, he muttered, "You're still standing here unharmed, so yeah, I guess it's not impossible."

Whitney quickly interjected, her voice urgent. "Chloe, then you should leave right away!"

I wasn't just planning to leave; I wanted Amber to personally send both Whitney and me out the door.

This was the best chance I'd get. Still, Taylor's possessiveness toward Whitney was a looming obstacle, and I knew better than to reveal my intentions in front of him.

I reached out, gently cupping Whitney's face. "I just want to spend a little more time with you."

"Chloe, you're too naive," she murmured, shaking her head.

Naive? Maybe.

But I also knew Taylor must have used me as leverage to control her over the years.

Whitney could have given up long ago, but she endured all of it—for the Sanders family.

If she could bear so much, then helping her was the least I could do.

"Don't worry about me," I said with a reassuring smile. "Just rest. Stop overthinking."

Obediently, she nodded, though the worry in her eyes lingered.

Both Whitney and Taylor knew Amber's nature far better than I did. If she had intended to harm me, I wouldn't still be breathing.

The fact that she hadn't made a move was proof enough—I was safe.

As night fell, the world grew eerily still.

The sprawling mansion seemed to echo with the faint sound of my footsteps on the hardwood stairs.

Amber hadn't left; I knew she was in her room on the second floor. Moving like a phantom, I slipped inside.

Perhaps she thought sparing me was a gesture of mercy. She never expected I'd have the audacity to invade her space.

Amber Carlyn—the untouchable matriarch, the one everyone feared—was unprepared for this lunatic barging in at midnight.

The soft click of the door unlocking alerted her. She sat up in bed, her voice sharp. "Who's there?"

I took deliberate, measured steps toward her. "Amber, it's me. Don't you remember? I'm the one Silas stabbed—one blade straight through me. It hurt so much, and it was so cold ... "

The snap of her bedside lamp shattered the darkness, its warm yellow light flooding the room.

Her icy gaze met mine. "Chloe, have you lost your mind? What are you doing here, acting like some ghost in the middle of the night?"

I chuckled softly. "Amber, are you sleeping well? Because I'm not."

Without waiting for an invitation, I pulled back her blanket and lay down beside her. Amber's eyes widened in disbelief, her expression as if she were staring at an alien.

"You're pushing your luck!" she hissed, her teeth clenched. "Do you think I won't kill you?"

I turned to face her, smiling faintly. "Of course, I believe you would. But if I die, Carter won't live much longer either. Would you be able to stomach that? Amber, I've figured out your weakness. You've already lost this game."

"Amber, since you've shown no interest in Whitney, why not remove the chip and let her go? It wouldn't cost you anything."

She responded, "Have I ever told you that no one has ever dared to threaten me? You can cut yourself, throw a tantrum, or even kill yourself—I couldn't care less. Just get out of my sight."

Amber's strategy was clear: agreeing to one demand would only invite more. She wouldn't give me anything.