Pampered by the Ice-Cold Billionaire

Hanging up the phone, Tony Stark fell silent for a moment before dialing the internal extension to his assistant.

When the line connected, he said, "Arrange a dinner for me tonight with Mr. Martin of Martin Group."

Zack replied, "Understood, Mr Stark."

The CEO's office was situated on the twenty-eighth floor. Tony Stark stood before the floor-to-ceiling glass windows wearing a crisp white shirt with his sleeves rolled up, revealing sturdy forearms.

He remembered with painful clarity that night three years ago before Chloe Bishop left the country. She had burned all their photos together and thrown away everything tied to him, her voice resolute and filled with pure hatred.

"Tony Stark, I hope we never see each other again in this lifetime."

He closed his eyes and whispered softly, "Chloe..."

Chloe kept her eyes closed in the backseat, resting until Bucky announced, "We've arrived." Only then did she open them.

Bucky got out and opened the door for her. Looking at the estate before her, she froze. Her delicate brows knit slightly. "Why are we at the Stark Manor?"

Bucky answered respectfully, "Kate Bishop said she hasn't seen you in three years and asked me to bring you here to have dinner together."

Chloe pressed her pale lips into a thin line. Three years... If not for Grandfather Bishop's eightieth birthday, she likely would never have set foot back here for the rest of her life.

Whether California, the UK, or Canada-anywhere outside the country-she was willing to spend a lifetime, even if it meant growing old alone.

A Stark family servant led her into the living room. Kate Bishop was descending the stairs; seeing Chloe standing at the entrance, a look of genuine joy brightened her face.

"Chloe, you're finally willing to come back."

On the day Chloe left the country three years ago, Kate Bishop had gone to the airport to see her off. Chloe's eyes back then had been hollow, drained of hope. "I'm never coming back, and I won't give you two my blessing."

Tony Stark and Kate Bishop's wedding was just a week away back then. Knowing she couldn't undo what was done, escaping had been her only choice.

After going abroad, she cut off contact with everyone, not even logging into instagram for the longest time.

It wasn't until one day, when she suddenly called David Bishop needing a large sum of money, that she finally reconnected with her family.

Having not seen each other in three years, Kate Bishop-now a married woman-was even more stunning than before.

She wore a pale celadon Bodycon embroidered with elegant orchids at the collar, its high side slits revealing fair, slender legs.

Her once-long hair was now cut short with delicate, slightly curled tips dyed a warm chestnut, accentuating her rosy, alabaster skin. She looked both fashionable and strikingly beautiful.

She glided gracefully down the stairs, radiating the gentle poise expected of a daughter from a wealthy house.

"Sister," Chloe greeted softly, lacking the playful softness she once used to have.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Kate Bishop took Chloe by the hand and looked her up and down.

She had grown significantly thinner-so thin she seemed almost frail.

Kate Bishop said with deep heartache, "Was life in California that hard on you?"

"It was fine. Everything was fine." Whenever anyone asked about her time in California, that was always her answer: Everything was fine.

Kate Bishop knew how stubborn she was. If Chloe didn't want to talk, asking would yield nothing.

Noticing the exhaustion in Chloe's eyes, Kate Bishop said, "Go upstairs to the guest room and rest for a bit. Once you wake up, I'll have the servants prepare your favorite dishes."

"Okay." She was indeed exhausted. She gave a faint nod and headed up to the second floor. Having visited the Stark Manor often in the past, she easily found her way to the guest room without needing guidance.

She went into the bathroom, took a hot shower, blew her hair dry, and laid down on the bed, gradually letting her eyes drift shut.

Yet her sleep was restless as usual, plagued by the same bizarre, disjointed dreams.