Chapter 3

My father's words were meant to be a proclamation, a sealing of Damien's fate and a promise of my own. He was telling him that I was to be his world, the woman he must honor above all others.

I remember the feeling as I sat beside him on the piano bench, my heart hammering in my chest. It was the first time I realized I was in love with him.

I was too young, too infatuated, to see the shame burning in his eyes.

I never asked him to play for me in public again. I respected his pride too much.

Now, I watched as he knelt willingly, gladly, for another woman. For Luna. He looked up at her with a tenderness that made my own eyes sting.

The sight was a physical pain, sharp and unbearable. I forced myself to look away.

Just then, Hunter appeared at my side, extending a hand. "May I have this dance?" he asked, his eyes ignoring everyone else in the room.

I took his hand and let him lead me to the dance floor. I let myself get lost in the music, in the spin and turn of the waltz, trying to outrun the suffocating reality of my life.

As the final notes of the song faded, a sickening groan of stressed metal echoed through the hall. I looked up. The massive crystal chandelier directly above my seat was shuddering, its main support cable snapping like a thread.

It plunged towards me.

The crowd screamed. Time seemed to slow. I saw Damien, his eyes wide, finally reacting, but he was too far away. He had been so focused on comforting Luna, who was feeling "overwhelmed" by the party, that he hadn't been paying attention.

It was Hunter who moved like lightning. He tackled me, shoving me clear just as the chandelier crashed to the floor where I had been standing, exploding in a shower of crystal and steel.

Shards of crystal had sliced through my calf. Through a haze of pain, I looked for Damien. He was running towards me now, his face a mask of panic. He was supposed to be my guardian, the one my father trusted to keep me safe.

He had failed. He was too busy doting on her.

The next thing I knew, I was in a hospital bed with a dozen stitches in my leg.

Damien, seemingly wracked with guilt, volunteered to be my caretaker. He was a perfect nurse, attentive and gentle. He brought me my meals, read to me, and made sure I was never in any pain.

For a few days, a foolish part of me allowed a sliver of hope to grow. Maybe he did care. Maybe this accident had made him realize something.

But then I would see the way his eyes lit up whenever Luna visited with a thermos of soup, the secret smiles they shared when they thought I wasn't looking. The hope would wither and die.

One night, unable to sleep, I hobbled down the quiet, sterile hallway of the private hospital wing. As I passed the fire escape, I heard voices. It was Javier and Damien.

"You went too far this time, Damien," Javier's voice was a low hiss. "She could have been killed. That chandelier weighs a ton."

My blood ran cold. I pressed myself against the wall, my heart pounding in my ears.

Damien's reply was chillingly calm. "I knew the cable was frayed. I had facilities flag it for repair weeks ago. The plan was for it to slip, to cause a panic. I was supposed to rush in and save her, a little scare to make her more dependent. I never calculated it would actually fall."

He had calculated my fall. It wasn't an accident. It was a plan.

"So this is your penance?" Javier asked. "Playing the devoted caretaker?"

"I'll see it through," Damien said. "Then this will all be over. She'll be fine, and we can move on."

A wave of nausea washed over me. I felt a coldness spread from my chest through my entire body, a chill that had nothing to do with the hospital air conditioning.

He had done this to me. On purpose. To "scare" me. To "manage" me.

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, but I didn't feel the pain. The agony in my heart was so much greater, it eclipsed everything else. This wasn't just betrayal. This was monstrous.