Chapter 1

My cousin Savannah handed me another cannoli, her smile as sweet as the cream filling.

"Just one more, Chloe. You have to live a little."

I took it. In the antique mirror of my family's Boston home, I saw us side-by-side. I was soft and round in my custom-made ball gown. Savannah was sharp and sleek in hers, a perfect column of silk.

Tonight was the Spinsters' Ball, the night my engagement to Blake Vanderbilt III would be officially celebrated. An alliance of old-money dynasties.

Savannah has lived with us for ten years, a charity case from a disgraced Southern branch of the family. She always encouraged me to enjoy myself, to ignore the whispers about my weight.

"You're a Davenport," she'd say, "You don't have to prove anything."

So I ate the pasta, the bread, the desserts she'd bring to my room.

Meanwhile, she was secretly running miles before dawn and eating nothing but steamed vegetables. I didn't know that then. I just thought she was naturally perfect.

At the ball, the air was thick with perfume and expectation. Blake stood beside me, his smile tight. He was handsome, the heir to a New York real estate empire, and my fiancé since we were children.

Then the music changed. Savannah was announced for a special performance.

She moved into the center of the ballroom and danced. It wasn't a debutante's clumsy waltz, it was something fierce and beautiful. Every eye was on her, including Blake's. He looked like a man seeing color for the first time.

When she finished, the room exploded with applause. Blake left my side and walked straight to her.

He took her hand and turned to face the crowd, his voice carrying across the silent room.

"I've made a terrible mistake."

He looked directly at me. His face was cold.

"The engagement is off. I cannot marry an embarrassment."

He then looked at Savannah with pure adoration.

"I'm in love with Savannah Pierce."

A hundred phones came up, their flashes blinding me. The whispers were loud now. I didn't need to hear them to know what they were saying.

The next morning, the Boston tabloids had their headline.

"Hefty Heiress Dumped at Debut."

I didn't cry. I just felt a strange, quiet calm. I looked at the picture of my tear-streaked face next to Savannah's triumphant smile.

I had a sudden, clear vision of the future.

A year from now, I would be laughing, sharing a bowl of french fries with the most powerful man in the world. And he would be looking at me the way Blake was looking at Savannah.

The thought was so absurd, I almost smiled.