Chapter 2

The next week, Robert threw a party. It wasn' t for a new building commission or a charity. It was for Liam. He was officially introducing her to our social circle, to the city' s elite. The invitations described it as a celebration for a "dazzling new artistic talent."

I saw her getting ready in the guest house. From my bedroom window, I watched as a team of stylists fussed over her. She looked stunning in a red dress, but what made my blood run cold was her face. She looked just like a faded photograph I kept locked in my jewelry box.

She looked like Ava.

Ava was Robert' s first love, the one he talked about in his rare, sentimental moments. She had died in an accident before I met him. He always called her his "white moonlight," the perfect woman no one could ever replace.

I had spent ten years living in the shadow of a ghost. Now, I understood. I was never the one he wanted. I was just a placeholder. And Liam? Liam was not just a mistress. She was a replacement. A stand-in for the dead. The realization didn't hurt anymore. It just felt... clarifying.

The party was a grand affair. The entire Vance estate was lit up, lanterns hanging from the old oak trees. A string quartet played on the main lawn. It was more extravagant than any party he had ever thrown for me, more magnificent than our own wedding reception. The contrast was a deliberate, public statement.

I came down the grand staircase wearing a simple black dress. The moment I entered the crowded ballroom, the chatter died down. Everyone turned to look at me. I could feel their pity, their morbid curiosity. The whispers started immediately, little currents of gossip rippling through the room.

"That' s her. Eleanor Vance."

"God, how can she show her face?"

"He moved the new one right into the house. No shame at all."

I kept my head high and walked toward the bar. Mrs. Gable, my loyal housekeeper, saw me and rushed to my side. Her face was tight with anger.

"Mrs. Vance, this is a disgrace. You shouldn' t have to endure this."

"It' s alright, Mrs. Gable," I said, my voice steady. "I' m fine."

Just then, Robert appeared with Liam on his arm. He tapped a glass for attention.

"Friends, thank you all for coming," he boomed, his voice full of charisma. "Tonight, I want to introduce you to someone very special. A brilliant artist and an incredible woman, Liam."

He raised his glass to her, and the crowd followed suit, a chorus of polite applause. Liam beamed, soaking in the attention. My fists clenched at my sides.

Mrs. Gable couldn' t take it. She stepped forward.

"Sir, with all due respect," she started, her voice trembling with indignation, "Mrs. Vance is the lady of this house!"

Robert' s smile vanished. His eyes turned to ice.

"Mrs. Gable," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You are forgetting your place. Eleanor is no longer my concern. Apologize to Liam. Now."

The room went completely silent. Everyone stared. Mrs. Gable looked at me, her eyes pleading. I gave her a small, almost imperceptible shake of my head. This was not her battle to fight.

Before she could say anything, Liam stepped in. She hid behind Robert' s arm, her eyes wide and filling with tears.

"Oh, Robert, please don' t be harsh with her," she whimpered. "It' s my fault. I shouldn' t be here. I' ve made everyone uncomfortable."

It was a masterful performance. She was the innocent victim, and I, by my very presence, was the cruel aggressor.

Robert' s face softened as he looked at her. He wrapped his arm around her protectively.

"Nonsense, darling. You' ve done nothing wrong." He glared at Mrs. Gable, then at me. "Some people just can' t accept seeing others happy."

With that, Liam turned and ran from the room, feigning distress. She made a show of stumbling on the patio steps.

"Liam!" Robert shouted.

He didn't hesitate. He abandoned his own party, leaving a ballroom full of stunned guests, and chased after her. I watched him go, his coattails flying as he ran. His sleeve caught on a rose bush near the patio-one of the few that had been spared-and tore. He didn' t even notice.

The party fell into an awkward chaos. People started to murmur, unsure of what to do. I took a deep breath. The hostess in me, the one trained over ten years of social obligations, took over.

I forced a smile onto my face and began to move through the crowd.

"Please, everyone, enjoy the food and music," I said, my voice calm and even. "Robert is just being... dramatic. You know how artists are."

I managed the rest of the evening on my own. I spoke to the guests, directed the staff, and kept the facade from crumbling completely. Underneath the calm exterior, my heart was a cold, hard stone. But I would not let them see me break.

As the last guests were leaving, I overheard one of Robert' s business partners talking to his wife.

"The man is a fool," the man said, shaking his head. "He' s throwing away a diamond for a piece of glass. Eleanor is the one who holds this family together. He' ll realize it when it' s too late."

His wife nodded. "He' s blinded. That girl has him wrapped around her little finger."

I turned away before they could see me. They were right. He was a fool. And it was already too late.