Chapter 1: The Anniversary That Never Was
I stood near the back of the ballroom like I always did, holding a tray nobody wanted me to hold. The Harrington Grand was glittering tonight, same as every time they threw one of these parties. Chandeliers throwing light everywhere, champagne bubbling in glasses that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. I could feel the eyes sliding over me and then away, the way people look at furniture they don't like.
My shirt was already sticking to my back from the heat of too many bodies and too much perfume. Five years of this and I still hadn't learned how to breathe right in rooms like this.
Victoria moved through the crowd in that red dress I used to think looked like fire on her. Now it just looked expensive. When she spotted me, her mouth tightened for a second before she smoothed it into the smile she saved for everyone else.
"Ethan," she said, quiet but sharp enough to cut. "Put the tray down. You're making a scene."
I set it on the closest table. My fingers felt numb. "Sorry."
She didn't answer. She never did anymore.
Her mother appeared next, diamonds catching every light like they were trying to blind someone. "Still playing the help, I see. Charming."
A couple of people nearby chuckled. Low, polite laughs that said they agreed but wouldn't admit it out loud.
I kept my gaze on the floor. Marble so shiny I could see my own tired face staring back. "Just trying to be useful, Mrs. Harrington."
"Useful." She said the word like it tasted bad. "The only thing you've ever been useful for is reminding us what a terrible decision my daughter made."
Victoria stood right there and said nothing.
The band switched to something slow. Couples drifted onto the dance floor. I stayed where I was, invisible again.
Then the lights softened. Victoria stepped up to the little stage. Someone handed her a microphone. The room hushed fast.
"Thank you all for coming to celebrate our anniversary," she said. Her voice was clear, confident, the way it got when she was in front of a crowd.
Polite clapping. A few smiles.
She paused, looked around the room. "But I have something important to say."
My stomach dropped. Just like that. No warning.
"Five years ago I made a mistake," she continued. "A mistake I've carried every single day. And tonight I'm ending it."
The air went still.
"I'm filing for divorce."
Someone gasped. Glasses clinked awkwardly. I felt heat rush into my face, then drain away just as fast.
Victoria's eyes found mine. No softness. No regret. Just calm. "Ethan Black has been a burden. A weight I carried out of pity. But pity only stretches so far."
She smiled a little, like she was relieved. "I've found someone who actually belongs in my life. Someone who can give me what I deserve."
A man stepped forward from the shadows at the side of the stage. Tall, suit cut sharp, smile easy. He took her hand like he'd done it a hundred times.
The room exploded into whispers. Someone even clapped.
Eleanor raised her glass high. "To new beginnings!"
More cheers. Laughter. Like this was the best part of the night.
I stood there while it happened. Every stare felt like a finger pressing into my chest. Every laugh landed like a slap I couldn't block.
I turned. Started walking toward the doors. Not fast. Not running. Just walking because standing still wasn't an option anymore.
The rain hit me hard the second I stepped outside. Cold enough to steal my breath. Soaked my shirt in seconds. I kept going down the driveway, past the line of black cars that cost more than most people's lives.
Behind me the music picked up again. Voices carried out through the open doors, laughing like nothing had happened.
I reached the gate. Stopped. Looked back once at the lights blazing in every window.
Tires hissed on the wet pavement.
A Rolls Royce eased up beside me. Black. Sleek. The kind of car that didn't belong in rain like this.
The back door opened before I could move.
An older man stepped out. Dark suit, umbrella already up. He bowed slightly, rain sliding off the silk without touching him.
"Young Master Ethan," he said. His voice was quiet, certain, like he'd been waiting years to say the words.
I stared at him. Water ran into my eyes. I didn't blink.
"The protection period has ended," he continued. "Your grandfather's empire has waited long enough."
Something inside me shifted. Not anger exactly. Not yet. Just a door creaking open after being locked so long I'd forgotten it was there.
He held out a small black card. Gold edges. One embossed symbol I hadn't seen since I was twenty.
My fingers closed around it. The metal felt warm against my skin.
"Shall we go home, sir?"
I looked back at the mansion one more time. Music still playing. Lights still shining.
Then I turned to the car.
"Yes," I said. My voice sounded strange in my own ears. Steady. "Let's go home."
The door closed with a soft click.
The Rolls pulled away smoothly, rain streaking the windows. The gala faded in the mirror until it was just lights in the distance.
And for the first time in years, I let myself breathe.