Chapter 2

I stood frozen in the entryway of my own apartment, the Rolex still nestled in my purse, as Ryan's words hung in the air. His cousin. The help. I was being erased in my own home.

"Well, don't just stand there gawking," Charlotte said, examining her manicure. "Since you're here, make yourself useful."

I looked at Ryan, waiting for him to intervene, to laugh and say this was all some twisted joke. But his eyes pleaded with me to play along, his jaw tense with fear that I might expose him.

"I have some imported cheeses in the fridge," Charlotte continued, waving dismissively. "Arrange them on that marble board with the Spanish ham. And open the Veuve Clicquot—it needs to breathe."

My throat constricted. The marble cheese board she was referring to—I'd purchased it from a small artisan shop in Milan last year. The Veuve was from my personal collection, bottles I'd been saving for a special occasion.

"Did you hear me?" Charlotte's voice sharpened. "The cheese. Now."

Ryan cleared his throat. "Lily, please. Charlotte likes things a certain way."

Something cold and calculating clicked into place inside me. I set down my suitcase and moved toward the kitchen, my mind racing. I wasn't just hurt—I was furious. But beneath the fury was a clarity I'd never experienced before.

"Of course," I said softly. "Right away."

I arranged the cheeses—my cheeses—on the board, slicing the jamón ibérico I'd special-ordered from Spain. I uncorked the champagne, the pop echoing in the kitchen like a starting gun. As I worked, I listened to their conversation in the living room.

"Your cousin seems competent enough," Charlotte was saying. "Though a bit drab. Does she always dress like that?"

Ryan laughed nervously. "She's just... practical."

"Well, she could use some style advice. Maybe I'll give her some of my hand-me-downs."

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. The Armani suit I was wearing cost more than Charlotte's entire outfit, but she couldn't see past her own delusions.

I carried the charcuterie board to the living room, setting it on the coffee table—the custom Carrara marble piece I'd commissioned from an Italian designer.

"Finally," Charlotte sighed, grabbing a piece of cheese without a thank you. "Now, I need you to set up the balcony for tonight. Candles, champagne glasses, the works. Ryan and I have something special to celebrate."

I moved to the balcony, arranging the candles with mechanical precision. Through the glass doors, I could see them whispering, Charlotte giggling as Ryan kissed her neck. On my sofa. In my home.

When I returned, Charlotte was holding up her champagne flute. "To our future," she said, clinking glasses with Ryan.

"To our future," he echoed, not meeting my eyes.

I stood by the wall, invisible, a ghost in the life I'd built and paid for. Charlotte turned to me suddenly, as if remembering I existed.

"Oh, Lily, I need one more thing." Her smile was predatory. "Run to CVS and pick up some warming lubricant. The good kind." She ran her fingers down Ryan's chest. "I want tonight to be unforgettable."

Ryan at least had the decency to look uncomfortable. "Charlotte, maybe—"

"No, it's fine," I said, my voice steady despite the humiliation burning through me. "I'll go right now."

"Perfect." Charlotte smirked. "We'll be getting started on the birthday celebrations. Don't rush back on our account."

As I grabbed my purse and headed for the door, I heard Charlotte's voice, deliberately loud: "Once she's gone, we can really have some fun. I've been planning this night for weeks."

I closed the door behind me, leaning against it for just a moment. In my purse, beside the Rolex, was my wallet with the black AmEx card that had paid for everything in that apartment. Including the bed where they planned to celebrate.

As I walked toward the elevator, something shifted inside me. The hurt was crystallizing into something harder, sharper. By the time I reached the CVS on the corner, I wasn't Victoria the enabler anymore. I was someone new—someone who would no longer be invisible.

And I knew exactly what I was going to buy instead of lubricant.