Chapter 1

The crystal chandelier above the dining room glittered.

Seven young women sat around the long table. The Vanderbilt Foundation Scholars.

My father, Arthur Vanderbilt II, wanted me to choose one.

A bride. A future partner for Vanderbilt Holdings.

He made that clear every damn day.

My eyes always found Isabelle Hayes.

She was beautiful, a coder, a hacker, brilliant.

And cold. So cold to me.

That just made me want her more.

The other six Scholars, they mostly ignored me.

Scarlett Dubois, with her fiery red hair, was openly dramatic, almost cynical towards me.

It made Isabelle's coolness seem special, not just part of a group act.

Chloe Astor, my childhood friend, sat beside me tonight. Her family, the Astors, were banking rivals, but Chloe and I were close.

"It's a vipers' nest, Ethan," she whispered, her eyes flicking towards the Scholars.

"Isabelle... I don't trust her smile. It doesn't reach her eyes."

I frowned. "She's just reserved, Chloe. Different."

Chloe sighed softly, not pushing it. I was too far gone on Isabelle.

Later, after dinner, I walked down the quiet east wing hallway. The Scholars had their rooms here.

I heard voices from Isabelle's slightly open door.

Isabelle's, and Leo's. Her supposed younger brother.

Arthur had taken them both in.

"She's just so... available," Leo was saying, his voice smooth, a little mocking. He was talking about one of the other Scholars.

Isabelle laughed, a low, intimate sound I'd never heard from her.

"They all are, dear brother. For you."

Then I saw it.

Just a glimpse.

Isabelle reached out, her fingers tracing Leo's jawline, a slow, possessive caress.

His hand covered hers, pressing it there.

It wasn't brotherly.

My stomach twisted.

That image, that touch, it burned into my mind.

Siblings? It felt wrong. Utterly wrong.

The next morning, the image still fresh, I found Chloe in the stables.

She was grooming her horse, a sleek black mare.

"Chloe," I said, my voice rough.

She looked up, concern on her face. "Ethan? What's wrong?"

"I think... I think I need to consider someone else."

Her eyebrows shot up.

"Someone who's actually... genuine." My gaze met hers. "Like you."

Chloe stopped brushing. "Ethan, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying Isabelle might not be who I think she is. And maybe I've been a fool."

I told my father over breakfast.

Not about Isabelle and Leo, not yet. Just that my focus was shifting.

"I'm considering Chloe Astor more seriously, Dad."

Arthur Vanderbilt II put down his coffee cup. His eyes, sharp and pragmatic, studied me.

"Chloe? An Astor?" He sounded surprised, a little wary.

"The Scholars program, Ethan, was designed for a reason. These young women are brilliant, loyal to this family because of the chance we've given them. Isabelle Hayes, particularly, has the intellect to be a real asset."

He tried to steer me back. "Don't let a small disagreement with Isabelle cloud your judgment. She's a remarkable woman."

Loyal. The word felt like ash in my mouth.

A bitter taste spread.

My naive belief in their gratitude, in Isabelle's carefully constructed aloofness, it was cracking.

How much had I missed?

That afternoon, needing air, I walked near the conservatory.

I heard them again. The Scholars.

Brianna Chen, the aspiring journalist, her voice sharp. "He's so predictable. Thinks a smile from Isabelle is a national holiday."

Olivia Kim, quiet, studious, giggled. "Leo says Ethan's like a puppy, easily trained."

Maya Rodriguez, the fashion hopeful, added, "Scarlett, your 'panic attack' at the dinner last month was genius. He looked so concerned. Utterly clueless."

Scarlett's voice, dramatic as ever. "He needed to see me as fragile, not a threat. Besides, it kept him away from Isabelle for an evening, didn't it? More time for Leo."

My blood ran cold.

They were talking about me. Mocking me.

Their disinterest wasn't subtle; it was a strategy.

A collective act.

And Leo. Always Leo.

Then, Isabelle's voice, not in the room, but referenced.

"Isabelle's plan is working perfectly," Zoe Washington, the pragmatic law student, said. "Keep Ethan on the hook, but make sure he knows Leo is her priority. It drives him crazy, makes him try harder."

Fiona O'Malley, sweet-natured Fiona, said, "Leo is just... amazing. I'd do anything for him."

The conversation shifted, confirming my worst fear from the hallway.

Brianna said, "Isabelle has Leo so wrapped up. It's not just brother-sister, you know. Anyone with eyes can see that."

"She made Mr. Vanderbilt promise Leo could come too, when they were adopted," Olivia added. "Said she wouldn't come without him."

My mind flashed back.

Arthur taking in Isabelle and Leo Hayes. Orphans, their parents lost in a tragic accident. Isabelle, a prodigy. Leo, charming, artistic.

Isabelle had been firm: Leo had to be part of the package.

I remembered, as a younger man, thinking Leo was a good kid. I'd even told Dad he should give Leo a chance, support his artistic endeavors.

The memory made me sick now.

All these years, Isabelle and the other Scholars, they'd praised Leo.

His art, his sensitivity, his charm.

Anytime I felt a flicker of jealousy, a hint that Leo got too much attention, especially from Isabelle, they'd made me feel small.

Petty.

"Ethan, you're just not seeing Leo's artistic soul," Isabelle would say, her voice coolly chiding.

"He needs our support."

The others would murmur agreement.

I'd doubted myself. My own gut feelings.

Now, the pieces slammed together.

My self-doubt wasn't misplaced intuition. It was the result of calculated gaslighting.

The deception was enormous, a web spun around me.

I needed to see. To know for sure.

That night, I couldn't sleep. I walked the estate grounds, my mind racing.

A light was on in the small guest cottage Leo used as an art studio.

I moved closer, staying in the shadows of the old oak trees.

The curtains weren't fully drawn.

I saw them.

Isabelle and Leo.

He was holding her, his hands tangled in her dark hair.

She was looking up at him, her eyes soft, adoring. The way I'd always dreamed she'd look at me.

Then they kissed.

A deep, passionate kiss that left no doubt.

My heart shattered. Not a gentle crack, but a violent explosion.

I stayed frozen, watching.

Isabelle pulled back slightly, her voice a breathy whisper.

"He'll propose soon, Leo. I can feel it."

"And you'll say yes?" Leo's voice, possessive.

"Of course," Isabelle said. "The Vanderbilt name, the resources... it's what we've always planned. It's for us, my love. For our future."

She touched his face. "My heart, my loyalty, it's only ever been yours. Ethan is just... a means to an end. He'll get a beautiful, accomplished wife. He won't even expect real affection. He's never had it."

Her words, a final, brutal confirmation.

Disgust, rage, and a profound, aching heartbreak warred within me.

The golden boy, the heir, was just a pawn in their sick game.