The invitation had arrived in a sleek, cream-colored envelope, one that seemed to be for royalty. Jaxon's mother was inviting me over for tea, she said, to "formally" meet and get to know the woman who was supposedly going to be her daughter-in-law. As the days went by, the dread in the pit of my stomach just grew. I knew better than to take her sweet, polite words at face value. Nothing with her was ever that cut and dried. Still, I couldn't back out now, not after everything that had already happened.But once I finally made it to her house, it was everything I expected: grand, luxurious, with just that touch of coldness that screamed, I have money and power, and I want you to know it. Her house had the appearance of a palace, with modern art and expensive furniture decorating it. The windows allowed in a glimpse of a sprawled garden, and everything about it felt designed to intimidate.Jaxon's mother, Eleanor, greeted me at the door with a courteous smile, her handshake firm enough
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