Chapter 1

Ava

Tonight is a big deal for my dad. I’ve already been warned to behave myself after I ordered a yellow dress for the occasion, but when he saw it, he completely lost it.

“You can’t do anything right, can you? You know Maddy hates yellow, and yet you went and ordered one!” He snatched the dress and tossed it to the floor. Then he told the maids to get rid of it.

“Why can’t you think about others? You did this just to annoy me!” He shoved me down and walked away. I wanted to say I actually liked yellow, but I knew better than to argue.

I glanced at the clock and realized I had only ten minutes before I had to meet my parents downstairs. If I was even a minute late, my dad would make me pay for it.

I remembered that night two years ago, right after my sister passed away. I was ten seconds late, and my dad made me eat outside, forcing me to eat my food off the ground like a dog.

I shook my head to push that memory away.

Then I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror. The woman staring back was stunning—almost like she belonged in a fairy tale.

My hair was elegantly styled in an updo, with golden strands framing my face perfectly. The black lace gown, adorned with shimmering silver, hugged my curves just right, flowing like water as I moved. The slit was high on my leg, and the deep V cut showcased my figure. This was the kind of look Madeline would have chosen for herself if she were still here. I smiled bitterly at the thought of my perfect sister.

Around my neck, a simple diamond necklace sparkled gently, its understated beauty making it even more enchanting.

I felt... flawless. The kind of flawless that would turn heads and spark whispers, the kind that could convince others I belonged in this world of polished appearances and dangerous games. The kind of perfection my dad expected from me. The kind my sister used to embody.

That perfection felt like a mask.

I traced my fingers over the beautifully carved chair in front of me, the cool wood grounding me as I gripped it tighter. I wasn’t anxious—anxiety suggested hope, anticipation, maybe even a bit of thrill. No, this was something different. This was pure exhaustion.

The gala. A night my father had hyped for weeks, treating it with the same reverence most people reserve for holy events.

“A chance to display our influence,” he’d declared.

“To build connections, to solidify our place in this world.”

Solidify. That word rang in my head, harsh and unyielding. That’s what it all came down to in this life: power, control, and the heavy burden of expectations.

I let out a sigh, moving closer to the mirror, examining the face that looked back at me. My blue eyes appeared calm, even serene, but I knew how to hide the storm brewing inside.

I had learned long ago how to conceal my true feelings—how to keep quiet, flash a polite smile, and play the part of the perfect daughter.

But how much longer could I maintain this act?

The door creaked open behind me, breaking the silence, and I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Her perfume—a soft, floral scent—always gave her away before she even spoke.

“You look stunning, my dear,” Mama said warmly as she walked in, her voice gentle yet filled with pride.

I managed a small, forced smile in the mirror. “Thanks, Mama. You look lovely too.”

Mama moved closer, her light blue dress swaying softly as she approached. She placed a hand on my shoulder, her touch as soothing as her voice. Her gentle gaze searched for something deeper within me, looking for the truth hidden beneath my calm facade.

“You’re anxious,” she observed after a moment, her tone not judgmental, just perceptive.

I shook my head. “I’m not anxious, Mama. I’m just tired.”

Mama let out a sigh, her hand sliding from my shoulder to rest on her hip. “Ava, I know these evenings are tough for you,” she said, her voice soft but resolute. “But you understand how crucial they are. Your father only wants what’s best for you—for all of us.”

I turned to face her completely, my frustration bubbling over before I could hold it back. “The best?” I echoed, bitterness creeping into my voice. “The best for who, Mama? Him? The business? Because it sure isn’t for me.” I wanted to add that it never was for me.

Her lips formed a tight line, and for a second, I thought she might lose it on me. But instead, she stepped closer and took my hand, her face softening a bit.

"One day, you'll get it," she said softly. "For tonight, just smile, be yourself, and make a good impression. That’s all you need to do."

I almost chuckled. That’s all? As if it were that simple. Like I hadn’t spent the last two years smiling at strangers, charming them with my carefully crafted humor, all while pretending the weight of expectations wasn’t crushing me.

Mama leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on my cheek. "I’ll see you downstairs, sweetheart. Don’t be late," she murmured before heading out.

The soft click of the door shutting felt like the end of a song, leaving the room in an unsettling silence. I turned back to the mirror, and the smile I had forced for her vanished in an instant. 

I know all too well what it means if I dare to be late. 

I looked flawless. But the woman in the reflection felt completely foreign.

I adjusted the straps of my gown one last time, the diamonds around my neck sparkling in the light, and took a deep breath. Tonight would be just like every other night. I’d play my role, say the right things, and flash the perfect smiles.

Because in this world, how you looked wasn’t just important—it was everything. Especially to my father.