Chapter 3

He was in a white tailored suit, pristine, almost ethereal. His features were a softened version of hers. His eyes moved across her face like wind.

Julian Ashford. Her brother. And behind him, a small court of friends—including Celeste, in a long white dress, playing the delicate, fresh-faced darling. And Killian—the fiancé who had abandoned her at the door—was standing beside Celeste, smiling down at her, saying something soft.

Vivienne's mind went blank for a second.

Before she could speak, Margot sprinted to Celeste, sobbing. "Cece, your sister is impossible. I just made one little comment about her not wearing any jewelry and she hit me. She called me the daughter of a mistress—because my mother was a mistress, I deserve to be slapped?"

Vivienne opened her mouth. Celeste got there first, eyes pink and shining. "Sister, even if Margot said something wrong, you can't hit people."

Vivienne's voice was flat with contempt. "If she hadn't gone after my mother, I wouldn't have."

Killian's brow drew down. Something tired and irritated flickered in his eyes. "Vivienne, that's Celeste's friend. She's a Pemberton. However wrong she was, you don't slap her in the middle of a ballroom."

Eyes everywhere. Vivienne's fingers curled. She felt utterly alone. Her chest went cold. She was about to speak when Julian stepped in front of her.

He smiled apologetically at Margot. His face was handsome and calm. "My sister has always been spoiled. I apologize on her behalf."

Vivienne stiffened. She stared at him. "Julian. I wasn't the one in the wrong. She was the one who mouthed off."

Julian's smile stayed soft. His eyes went cold. Vivienne's mind snapped into focus. He was angry with her. Why?

His lips barely moved. "Vivi. It's all the same."

She ground her teeth. The mask of warmth on his face made her chest sting.

A flush of color spread across Margot's cheeks—girlish, triumphant. "Since it's you asking, Julian, I'll let it go. I won't stoop to her level."

Celeste's face was a masterpiece of wounded innocence. "I know you've always hated me, sister. And you hate my mother."

"But my mother and my father fell in love, they couldn't help it. We don't get to pick how we're born. If I could, I would have been the real Ashford daughter. I would have had a brother who loved me."

"But not everyone is lucky enough to be born the Ashford heiress like you. I'm sorry." Tears ran down her face in two perfect lines, and she pushed past them and fled.

Killian moved to follow her instinctively. He stopped. He turned back to Vivienne. His eyes were full of disappointment.

"Vivi. Do you know how happy Celeste was that you were coming home? And you say something like that to her. I coddled you too much. This is what it turned you into."

He left without looking back. Eyes from all over the room tracked the exchange. Vivienne's fury climbed to the top of her skull.

Delphine had been the one who seduced her father. Delphine's daughter was the one who was now weeping about wanting to steal the life of a legitimate child. And somehow Vivienne was the villain.

She met Julian's calm gaze. Something in her went hollow. "Julian. You really think this is my fault too?"

Julian pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed like he was tired of humoring a child.

"Vivi, we were out picking a gift for you. That's why we couldn't meet you at Blackwell."

The tone was one she had heard him use her whole life—only always about someone else. He would smile politely at a girl chasing him, then throw her gifts in the trash the second she left.

Now she was on the receiving end.

Once upon a time he hadn't been like this. After the crash he had been the only thing holding her together.

When they were kids, his favorite toy had belonged to him alone—he wouldn't let anyone touch it. Except her. Because she liked it, it became hers on the spot.

Even when he studied abroad he flew home every single month to see her, always with gifts.

When the crash happened, her mother had shielded her. That was why she had lived. Julian had been so terrified of losing her too that he'd put private security on her for years.

Then Celeste and Delphine walked into their lives, and everything rearranged.

Vivienne pulled the corners of her mouth into a tight line.

"I understand."

Julian's expression cooled for an instant, then smoothed. It happened so fast she thought she had imagined it.

"Good," he said lightly. "Then don't let it happen again."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

He looked at her the way you look at a child being difficult. "Do I really have to spell it out? You know Margot is Celeste's friend. You know what it does if you call Delphine a mistress in public. And you still say you aren't targeting Celeste?"

She pressed her anger down. She could hear him now.

"Julian. She was the one who went after Mom first."

His eyes—she had counted on them—were full of disappointment. "Killian was right. You really were spoiled."