Introduction

I was a Davenport heiress, engaged to Blake Vanderbilt III.

My old-money life seemed perfectly scripted, culminating tonight at the Spinsters' Ball.

My cousin, Savannah, the family charity case, was always my dearest confidante, urging me to "live a little" and ignore whispers about my weight.

But at the ball, Blake shattered it all.

Under blinding flashes, he publicly declared his love for Savannah: "The engagement is off. I cannot marry an embarrassment."

He looked directly at me.

The whispers turned to roars.

The Boston tabloids screamed, "Hefty Heiress Dumped at Debut," pairing my tear-streaked face with Savannah's triumphant smile.

Back home, Savannah, dripping crocodile tears, twisted the knife, confessing her years-long campaign.

"You sat around...eating cake," she sneered, exposing her malice.

How could the girl I'd shared my home and everything with orchestrate such public humiliation?

Why was I so blind to her calculated sabotage, her sweet encouragement a poison meant to destroy me?

There was no anger, no heartbreak... just an unsettling calm and a sudden, clear vision.

They expected tears, begging, a scene.

But when she claimed my grandmother's heirloom pearls, something snapped.

I snatched them back.

I left the mockery behind, walking away from the life they thought they'd destroyed.

They had no idea who they were truly dealing with.