Chapter 2

Alexia POV

I stared into the mirror. The woman gazing back was gaunt, her cheekbones sharp against paper-thin skin. Her eyes were hollow, haunted things.

But there was a spark in the darkness of her pupils that hadn't been there yesterday.

I touched the necklace at my throat. It was a simple gold chain holding a small, oval locket. My mother's only legacy. She had died when I was eighteen, leaving me nothing but this scrap of gold and a talent for music that I had allowed to atrophy into silence.

But I hadn't been entirely idle.

Jacob didn't know about the nights I spent awake while he slept the sleep of the righteous. He didn't know I had taught myself coding to understand the architecture of his world, or that I had been secretly releasing intricate electronic compositions under a pseudonym.

He thought I was just "resting." Just existing.

Tonight was Cassandra's birthday party.

The mansion was blazing against the night sky, lit up like a beacon of excess. Waiters moved through the crowd with the fluid grace of dancers, balancing trays of champagne. The air smelled of expensive perfume and stifled secrets.

Cassandra stood in the center of the room, gravitational and bright. She wore a red dress that cost more than my father made in a year. She was laughing, her head thrown back, her neck exposed in a display of confidence.

Anton, my stepson-the boy I had raised since he was three-was clinging to her side like a devoted acolyte.

"You look like a princess, Cassie!" Anton beamed.

He never looked at me like that. Not anymore.

Jacob had his hand on the small of her back. It looked natural. Possessive. Territorial.

I stood by the pillar, a shadow in a grey dress.

"Alexia!" Jacob spotted me. He waved me over. His smile was tight, a calculated performance for the investors in the room. "Come join us."

I walked over. My legs felt heavy, dragged down by invisible weights.

Cassandra turned to me. Her eyes glittered with something malicious, sharp and bright as a diamond. She hooked her arm through mine. Her skin was warm, her grip uncomfortably tight.

"Sister," she cooed, sweetness dripping from the word like poison. "I was just telling Jacob. Since you can't play anymore, maybe you could write me a song? A birthday song? It would mean so much."

The cruelty was precise. Surgical.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Jacob beat me to it.

"Of course she will," Jacob said, patting my shoulder dismissively. "Alexia would be happy to."

He didn't ask. He never asked.

"Oh, and one more thing," Cassandra said, her voice dropping to a whisper that carried perfectly in the lull of conversation. She pointed a manicured finger at my throat. "That necklace. It would match my dress perfectly. Can I have it? As a gift?"

The room went silent. Everyone watched. The dutiful wife. The fragile friend. The generous husband.

I felt the metal against my skin. My mother's cold, enduring metal.

"No," I said.

The word hung in the air, solid and immovable.

Jacob frowned, his impatience flaring. "Alexia, don't be difficult. It's just a necklace. I'll buy you ten more."

"It's my mother's," I said. My voice was steady, surprising even me. "I won't give it to anyone."

Cassandra's face crumpled. It was a masterful performance. She looked down at Anton, widening her eyes in mock hurt. "See, Anton? I told you. She doesn't like me."

Anton glared at me. He was ten years old, and he had his father's cold eyes. "Mom, why are you so selfish? Cassie is the nice one. You're just mean."

Mean.

I had nursed him through fevers that burned through the night. I had helped him with every homework assignment. I had given up Vienna for him.

"Anton," Jacob warned, but there was no heat in it. He looked at me with profound disappointment. "Alexia, give her the necklace. Don't ruin the night."

I looked at them. The three of them. They were a family. A twisted, broken, perfect family. And I was the intruder.

"I'm leaving," I said.

Jacob sighed, rolling his eyes. "Fine. Go to your room if you're going to be like this."

"No," I said. "I mean, I'm accepting the job in Vienna. I'm leaving next week."

Jacob froze. For a second, the mask slipped. "What?"

But Cassandra moved faster.

She lunged forward, her hand snatching at my throat. It happened in a blur. A sharp tug. A sickening snap.

The chain broke.

The locket fell. It hit the marble floor with a tiny, tragic ping.

Cassandra stomped her heel down.

There was a crunch of gold collapsing under pressure.

"Oops," she said. Her eyes were wide, innocent, mocking. "I tripped."

I looked down at the flattened metal. Today was the anniversary of my mother's death.

I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I just looked at Jacob. He wasn't looking at the necklace. He was looking at Cassandra, checking if she had twisted her ankle.

"You're right," I whispered to no one, my voice hollow. "Everything here is broken."