Chapter 1

"Mrs. Ashford, take your husband’s arm."The photographer pointed his lens directly at Seraphina.

Camera flashes lit up the Ashford Foundation's annual preview, but the hall suddenly went completely quiet. The guests turned their sympathetic gazes toward me.

I stood in place. My nails dug deeply into my palms.

I had spent ten long years managing this family.

But Seraphina had only been back from abroad for ten months. And she had already ruined it all.

I took a step forward. I walked right up and cut between them.

"I am his wife," I said clearly.

"I'm... I'm so sorry," his face went red. "I studied the recent public photos... I just assumed..."

His voice trailed off.

That half-finished excuse hit me harder than a physical slap.

He studied the public photos.

That meant my endless compromises over the past ten months were visible to the whole world.

A hand touched my arm.

My husband, Nathaniel, stepped into the space between us.

"It's just a small mistake," Nathaniel said. "There’s no need to turn it into something bigger."

I looked at his hand on my arm.

Then I looked at Seraphina.

Ten years ago, she had been the woman Nathaniel was supposed to marry. She disappeared on their wedding day.

Ten months ago, she came back.

Since then, she had somehow ended up beside my husband at nearly every public event we attended.

"I'm so sorry, Elena," she whispered. "The reporters outside keep asking about my runaway wedding... I thought if I stayed near someone familiar, they might leave me alone."

Nathaniel's expression softened instantly. He let out a soft sigh.

The photographer cleared his throat. "Mr. Ashford, we’re already behind schedule. If we could get the shot—"

"Fine." Nathaniel looked at Seraphina. "Take this one first."

Then he turned to me.

"We’ll do ours after."

I stared at him.

"You want me to wait while another woman takes a photograph on your arm?"

"It isn’t a couple’s portrait."

"The photographer just called her your wife."

Nathaniel’s mouth tightened.

"Elena, it’s one photograph."

Seraphina immediately stepped back. "Forget it. I’ll go."

Nathaniel caught her wrist before she could move.

"You don’t have to leave."

Then he looked at me again.

"Please. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be."

He didn't wait for my answer. He turned directly to the photographer.

"Just start shooting."

Then Seraphina moved beside him.

The photographer raised his camera.

"Closer, please."

She slipped her hand around Nathaniel’s arm.

Nathaniel let her.

The flash went off.

I was outside the frame.

"Mrs. Ashford?"

The event manager had appeared beside me with a large black album in her hands.

She glanced toward Nathaniel and Seraphina before lowering her voice.

"The design team needs your approval for the anniversary display."

She handed me the album.

For our tenth anniversary, the Foundation had planned a display of ten official photographs: nine from our most recent public appearances, followed by one final portrait Nathaniel and I would take at our anniversary gala next Saturday.

Nathaniel had loved the idea when the staff proposed it.

A decade of us, he had called it.

I opened the cover.

The first photograph showed Nathaniel and me together in the center.

By the third, Seraphina had appeared at the edge of the frame.

In the fifth, she stood between us.

In the sixth, Nathaniel’s hand rested at her back while I stood on his other side.

By the eighth, I had been pushed so far toward the edge that half my arm was cropped out.

I stopped turning pages.

The ninth space was still empty.

The manager glanced toward the photography area.

"The picture they just took will probably go there. The media team needs something from tonight’s preview."

I looked up.

Nathaniel was still beneath the lights with Seraphina.

She was saying something to him.

He bent his head to hear her.

From across the room, they looked exactly like the couple the photographer had assumed they were.

My thumb moved to the final page.

One blank space remained.

TENTH ANNIVERSARY PORTRAIT

Next Saturday.

The manager shifted beside me. "Would you like us to change any of the earlier selections?"

I closed the album.

"No. Leave them exactly as they are."

I handed the album back.

Then I walked out through the side doors.

I pulled out my phone and opened a chat box with my lawyer.

His last text sat at the bottom of the screen.

[When you’re ready, I can prepare everything within twenty-four hours.]

My thumbs hovered over the keyboard. I typed slowly.

Keep the papers ready. I may need them next Saturday.

I hit send.

A camera flashed inside the hall.

A minute later, when I walked back in, Nathaniel came toward me as if nothing had happened.

"Ready to go home?"

I took the coat he held out.

My phone vibrated in my hand.

They’ll be ready.