Meanwhile, in Monaco, Charles's penthouse buzzed with music, loud laughter, and the steady clinking of glasses. The air was thick with smoke and mischief as a few of his closest friends lounged across velvet couches, chatting and drinking. Chloe sat on the far end of the room, curled up on a single-seater with her phone in hand, scrolling through her feed, almost completely ignoring the noise around her.
Mino, one of Charles's friends, grinned and nudged a bottle toward her.
"Chloe, we haven't seen you with Abel Smith lately," he teased. "What's up? That high-profile wedding we kept hearing about—did it get cancelled or what?"
She didn't even look up from her phone.
Charles raised a brow and smirked. "Maybe Abel found out she was just using him and cut her off."
Still no response. Chloe remained silent, eyes locked on her phone screen, her fingers scrolling like she was searching for something specific.
