Chapter 1
The rain in Silverwood City didn’t just fall; it punished. I stood outside the mahogany doors of the Blackwell estate, my cheap dress soaked to my skin. To the world, I was Elara Blackwell, the lucky girl adopted by the city’s most charitable philanthropists. To the Blackwells, I was a glorified maid, a tax write-off with a heartbeat. “You’re late, Elara,” my adoptive mother, Beatrice, hissed as I stepped inside. She didn’t look up from her wine glass. “And you’re dripping on the Persian rug. Clean it up before the guests arrive for the fundraiser.” “I’m sorry, Mother. I was with Liam,” I whispered, my voice trembling. Mentioning Liam usually bought me a sliver of peace. Liam was the golden boy of the Silverwood elite, the man the Blackwells wanted me to marry to secure their social standing. He was my only escape. My only light. Until an hour ago. I had gone to his apartment early to surprise him with a birthday gift—a watch I’d saved three months of secret waitressing tips to buy. I hadn’t needed a key; the door was ajar. And the sounds coming from the bedroom… the laughter… the way he called *her* name. It wasn’t just any girl. It was my adoptive sister, Seraphina. “Liam is waiting for you in the study,” Beatrice said, her eyes narrowing. “Go. He has something to tell you.” I walked toward the study, my heart a lead weight in my chest. I pushed the door open, expecting a confession, an apology, *something*. Instead, Liam stood there, looking dashing in a tuxedo, with Seraphina clinging to his arm like a designer accessory. “Elara,” Liam said, his voice devoid of the warmth I had lived for. “I think it’s best we stop pretending. Seraphina and I… we’re engaged. My father needs a bride with a real pedigree, not a… charity case.” The world tilted. The air left my lungs. “A charity case?” “Don’t be dramatic, Elara,” Seraphina smirked, smoothing her silk dress. “You should be grateful we let you live here this long. Now, be a good girl and go tell the press that you’ve stepped aside for our happiness.” I backed away, the bile rising in my throat. I turned and ran—out of the study, out of the house, and straight into the pouring rain. I didn’t care where I went. I just needed to disappear. I didn’t see the black Rolls Royce pulling into the driveway. I didn’t hear the screech of tires. I only felt the blinding headlights before the world went black.
