Chapter 1

The heavy cream envelope lay on the polished mahogany table.

Vanderbilt.

The name alone felt like a weight in the room.

My stepmother, Eleanor, picked it up like it was a holy relic. Her eyes gleamed.

"Savannah, darling, come see!"

Her voice was honey-sweet, a tone she rarely used with me unless she wanted something.

I already knew. My chest tightened. This was it. The beginning of the end, or so it was last time.

"What is it, Eleanor?" I kept my voice even.

"The Vanderbilts, Savvy! The Vanderbilts! They' ve proposed an alliance. A union between our families."

She practically vibrated with excitement. An alliance. She made it sound like a royal decree. Last time, it was my personal hell.

My father, Colonel John Miller, was overseas. A hero, deployed on a mission so critical he was mostly incommunicado. He wouldn't know about this until it was too late. Just like last time.

Eleanor saw my lack of enthusiasm. Her smile thinned.

"This is a monumental opportunity, Savannah. For this family. For your future."

My future. The one where I ended up broken, used, and discarded by these very people.

My stepsister, Brittany, or "Brie" as she insisted, flounced into the room.

"Mother? What' s all the commotion?"

Eleanor turned, her face alight again. "Brie, darling! The most wonderful news! The Vanderbilts want an alliance!"

Brie' s perfectly plucked eyebrows shot up. "The Vanderbilts? As in, Preston Vanderbilt IV?"

"The very same!" Eleanor clasped her hands. "Imagine, linked to that dynasty!"

My stepbrother, Brandon, slouched in from the hallway, already smirking. "Heard Vanderbilt. Sounds like money."

Eleanor beamed at her son. "More than money, Brandon. Prestige. Power."

She conveniently forgot to mention it meant one of the Miller young women would be effectively sold off.

Last time, they picked Brie first. Then, when she threw her little fit, I became the substitute. The "stronger" one. The dutiful one.

Not this time.

I had memories they couldn't fathom. A roadmap of their treachery.

This time, I wouldn't just endure. I would fight.

Eleanor was already picturing the headlines, the society pages. Her connection to the Vanderbilts.

"This calls for a celebration," she declared.

I just watched them. Their greedy, excited faces.

The game had just begun. And this time, I knew the rules.