Chapter 2

The champagne flutes were empty, but my hand trembled just enough that the last sip swirled in a dizzying vortex, catching the chandelier light like liquid gold. I stood near the edge of the grand ballroom, the noise of three hundred society elites humming around me like a distant storm. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, old money, and the faint, metallic tang of anticipation. I wore the emerald silk gown he had chosen for me, a dress that clung to my curves with possessive intent, the neckline plunging just enough to make men’s eyes darken and women’s lips tighten with envy. But I wasn’t looking at them. I was looking for him. He was across the room, holding court in a semi-circle of admirers. Arthur. My father. My lover. The title shifted depending on how hard he pressed me, depending on the weight of his hand on the small of my back. He wore his tuxedo like a second skin, the black fabric sharp against his broad shoulders, but his eyes were already scanning the room, hunting for me. When they found me, the polite smile he wore for the mayor didn’t reach his gaze.