Chloe's POV:

My sarcastic remarks hit their mark, and a shadow immediately crossed Carolina’s face. The air in the hospital room grew heavy, thick with a tension that made my skin prickle.

"Keira was considerate enough not to air your dirty laundry," Carolina said, her voice sharp with a bias that no longer surprised me. "She didn't tell everyone you tried to harm her at sea. And as for Lance... they naturally found each other. It’s best if you just step aside, Chloe. Forcing a heart that doesn't belong to you never leads to happiness."

A familiar chill settled in my chest. I pushed Keira? They naturally ended up together? The absurdity of it would have been laughable if the pain wasn't so real. When people choose to be blind, their sight is terrifyingly selective.

I didn't want to waste my remaining strength on them. I simply picked up my fork and took a bite of my pancake, maintaining a calm, elegant facade that seemed to irritate them even more.

Seeing my cold demeanor, Carolina shot me a final, icy glance. "Take some rest," she snapped before turning to leave.

In the hallway, I heard her stop Nick and Viviana. "Get Keira some of those pancakes too. If Chloe has them, Keira should too. What were you thinking, only getting them for one of them?"

"Pancakes?" Viviana sounded bewildered.

They didn't buy them. They knew Carolina loved that famous diner's pancakes, but they hadn't been the ones to bring them to my room. If not them, then who? Lance? Unlikely. He was with Keira.

"I've got it, Mom," Viviana’s voice faded as they walked away. "I’ll make sure they bring an extra order."

Damon's POV:

On the third floor of that same famous diner, the sunlight caught the silver of my cufflinks as I tapped my fingers against the solid wooden table. Nate stood before me, his posture rigid as he delivered his report.

He detailed his "chance" encounter with the Summers family—Carolina, Nick, and Viviana. In our circles, the Summers' family dynamics weren't exactly a well-kept secret if one knew where to look.

"So you’re saying she’s isolated?" I asked, my voice low and leisurely.

"It seems that way, sir," Nate said cautiously. "Miss Chloe’s reputation... it isn't very good at the moment. There are many rumors."

I narrowed my eyes slightly. I had seen her in that hospital bed—stubborn, indifferent, and possessing a quiet strength that didn't align with the "troublemaker" the rumors described.

"Shall I look into it further, sir?" Nate asked.

"No need," I replied, watching the steam rise from my coffee.

I didn't need a private investigator to tell me that the most beautiful flowers often grew in the harshest environments. Chloe Summers was an enigma, one that I intended to solve in my own time.