Chapter 2

The charity gala was suffocating, but Voss moved through the crowd like a king, carrying Cosima on his arm and showing off Clara to every influential guest in the room.

"Is that Voss's new assistant?" a donor's wife whispered near the champagne tower.

"Assistant? Look at where his hand is," another whispered back. "Poor Noelle..."

I stood near the edge of the room holding a glass of water. My knuckles were white, but my spine remained straight as steel.

Voss didn't care about the whispers. In his mind, he wasn't a cheater -- he was a proud family man taking back the spotlight from a wife who had outshone him for ten years.

Cosima glided over to me, holding a glass of dark red wine, her eyes bright with victory.

"Noelle," Cosima purred softly, her sweet voice laced with acid. "You shouldn't be so cold. Voss is just trying to give Clara a proper future. Rue already has everything anyway."

She took my daughter's place. She took my daughter's spotlight.

Before I could speak, Cosima tilted her hand. The heavy red wine splashed straight across the front of my white silk dress, soaking into the fabric.

Gasping echoed from the nearby guests. Cosima immediately covered her mouth in fake horror. "Oh! I am so clumsy! Noelle, I am so sorry!"

Voss rushed over instantly -- not to me, but to grab Cosima's elbow gently. "Are you alright, Cosima? Did any spill on your heels?"

Not a single word to check on me.

I stood there under the bright crystal chandeliers, the dark wine dripping onto the marble floor.

I reached into my coat, pulled out my leather-bound countdown journal, and laid it flat on the table. I opened it to page one and marked a dark red check next to Voss's crossed-out name.

Voss glared at me, stepping close enough to whisper furiously in my ear. "Stop making a scene with that ridiculous notebook, Noelle. You're embarrassing this family."

"I'm leaving," I said quietly.

I turned toward the exit, letting everyone see the wine stain on my back. Voss followed me into the quiet foyer, grabbing my wrist tightly.

"What is wrong with you tonight?" he hissed, his face red with rage. "I gave Clara a necklace! You have the entire family backing you! Stop playing the victim!"

I pulled my wrist smoothly out of his grip.

My phone vibrated in my clutch. It wasn't a victory text -- it was a high-priority alert from our estate office:

[ALERT: Primary home reserve trust accessed by Trustee: Voss Sinclair.]

My breath hitched in my chest. He hadn't just bought a necklace. He had just drawn down the core asset reserve my father had left to protect Rue's future.

Voss saw my face pale, and a slow, arrogant smirk spread across his lips.

"You thought locking my card would stop me?" Voss whispered, leaning in close. "I'm the head of this home, Noelle. I take what I want."

I clutched my leather journal tightly against my chest and tore myself away from the man I had loved for ten years.