Chapter 1

The day I turned eighteen was the day I moved into the Kensington estate. My mother had married into wealth, and I was the baggage that came with the deal. The house was enormous, a stone fortress in the most expensive part of the city. It didn't feel like a home. It felt like a museum, and I was an exhibit that didn't belong.

That first night, the family had a formal dinner. Ethan Kensington, my new stepbrother, sat across from me. He was handsome, with a cold confidence that made everyone at the table watch him. He was the heir to the family fortune, and he knew it. He barely looked at me, his eyes glancing over me as if I were part of the furniture. My mother smiled a tight, nervous smile, telling me to be grateful.

I knew what I was here. I was a problem to be managed, an inconvenience from my mother' s past life. I needed security. I needed to matter in this cold, new world.

So I made a choice.

Later that night, when the house was silent, I left my room. I wore the only silk nightgown I owned. I walked down the long, carpeted hallway to Ethan's room. I didn't knock. I just opened the door and stepped inside.

He was sitting in a chair by the window, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He wasn't surprised to see me. He just watched me, his face unreadable.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice low.

I didn't answer. I walked toward him and stood in front of his chair. I took the glass from his hand and set it on the table. Then I sat on his lap. His body was tense, hard as stone beneath me.

"You," I whispered.

He stared at me for a long moment, his eyes searching my face. Then, a slow, cruel smile spread across his lips. He didn't say a word. He just pulled me closer.

That night was the beginning.

For three years, I was his secret. He never took me out on a real date. He never introduced me to his friends as his girlfriend. I was a shadow that lived in his house, someone he called to his room when he was bored or lonely. He bought me expensive things-dresses, jewelry, a car-but they felt like payments, not gifts. I lived in his world, but I was never a part of it. I told myself I loved him, but it was a desperate kind of love, born from a need to survive. I depended on him for everything, and he made sure I knew it.

My heart told me this was wrong, that I was just a toy to him. But I ignored it. I had nowhere else to go.

Then came the announcement. Ethan Kensington was getting married. Not to me, of course. To a woman from a family as rich and powerful as his own. Their wedding was the biggest social event of the year. My mother was thrilled. She told me how lucky we were to be connected to such a family.

She didn't know about me and Ethan. No one did.

On the day of his wedding, I looked at myself in the mirror. I saw a ghost. A well-dressed, well-fed ghost, but a ghost nonetheless. I knew I couldn't stay. To him, I was a dirty little secret. To his new wife, I would be nothing.

So I ended it. I drove the car he bought me to the cliffs overlooking the ocean. I left a note on the driver's seat. It just said, "I'm sorry." Then I walked away. I took a bus to a city where no one knew my name and disappeared. I let them think I was dead. I wanted him to feel something, anything, for me. Maybe even a little bit of guilt.

Three years passed. I built a new life. It was small and quiet, but it was mine. I worked as a waitress. I had my own apartment. I was nobody, and it felt like freedom.

Then, one day, he found me.

I was at work when he walked into the diner. He looked different. Harder. More powerful. The city's newspapers called him a titan of industry, a ruthless businessman who had nearly tripled his family's wealth. He had also nearly destroyed their reputation with his wild, grief-fueled behavior after my "death."

He walked right up to my table. The whole diner went silent.

"Ava," he said.

My heart stopped.

He didn't say anything else. He just looked at me, and for the first time, I saw something in his eyes that wasn't coldness or control. It was desperation.

The next day, he shut down the city's central plaza. In front of news cameras and thousands of people, he got down on one knee. He held up a diamond ring so large it looked fake.

"Ava," he said, his voice broadcast across the giant screens. "I was a fool. I almost lost you once. I won't lose you again. Marry me."

It was a grand, romantic gesture. It was everything I had ever dreamed of. I thought his searching, his public display, meant he finally saw me. That he finally cherished me.

So I said yes.

I married Ethan Kensington and became his wife. For a little while, it was perfect. He showered me with attention. He took me to fancy parties and introduced me as Mrs. Kensington. He defied all the social rules for me. I started to believe that my dream had come true. I finally had the security and affection I had always wanted. I had won.

But I was a fool.

One evening, there was a charity gala. A woman, a rising socialite, tried to get Ethan's attention. She was clumsy and "accidentally" tripped, about to fall into a towering display of champagne glasses. Ethan moved instantly, pulling her out of the way. In the process, a shard of glass from a toppled flute cut his arm.

It was a minor injury, but everyone fussed over him. Later, I found him in a quiet corridor, on the phone with a friend. I was bringing him a fresh drink. I stopped just out of sight when I heard his voice, low and irritated.

"It's nothing," he said into the phone. "Just a scratch."

He paused.

"No, Ava's fine. She's just... Ava. You know how she is. She always finds a way to be at the center of trouble. It's in her nature, right from the start. You just have to know how to handle her."

The glass in my hand trembled. The words hit me, cold and sharp. It's in her nature. You just have to know how to handle her. He wasn't talking about me like a wife. He was talking about me like a problem. A possession he had to manage. The grand gestures, the public proposal... it was all about control. It was about owning the thing he thought he had lost. It wasn't love. It was pride.

My whole body went cold. The beautiful dream I was living in shattered into a million pieces. The love I thought I had finally won was a lie. He still saw me as the desperate girl who climbed into his bed eighteen. Nothing had changed.

I felt a wave of nausea. My stomach churned with the bitter taste of truth. He didn't cherish me. He was ashamed of me. He had put a diamond ring on my finger, but in his mind, I was still the trash he kept hidden in the back rooms of his life.

The humiliation burned inside me.

I walked back into the ballroom, my face a perfect, calm mask. I found his assistant, Chloe, standing near the bar. She was a new hire, ambitious and smart. She gave me a small, polite smile.

"Is Mr. Kensington alright, Mrs. Kensington?"

Her concern felt fake.

Later, the woman Ethan had "saved" came over to apologize to him. Chloe was standing nearby and "accidentally" bumped into a waiter, sending a tray of red wine splashing all over my white dress.

"Oh my god!" Chloe gasped, looking horrified. "Mrs. Kensington, I am so, so sorry!"

Everyone turned to look. My dress was ruined. I was the center of attention, dripping and stained.

"It's fine," I said through gritted teeth.

Ethan walked over, a frown on his face. He didn't look at me. He looked at Chloe.

"What's going on here?" he asked, his voice sharp.

"I'm so sorry, Ethan," Chloe said, her eyes filling with tears. "I just turned around and..."

"It was an accident," I said, wanting the ground to swallow me whole.

Ethan's gaze finally landed on me, and it was cold. "Don't make a scene, Ava."

Then he turned to Chloe and his voice softened. "It's not your fault. Go get cleaned up."

He didn't even offer me a napkin. He just stood there, siding with her in front of everyone. The message was clear. She was his employee, under his protection. I was his wife, and I was an embarrassment.

He looked back at me, his jaw tight.

"Apologize to Chloe," he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "You're making her uncomfortable."

I stared at him, my mind reeling. Apologize? For what? For being humiliated?

"Ethan..."

"Do it," he commanded, a silent threat in his eyes.

I felt small and powerless, just like I had all those years ago. I turned to Chloe, who was watching with a look of fake sympathy.

"I'm sorry," I muttered. The words felt like poison in my mouth.

I turned and walked away, my ruined dress trailing behind me. I didn't look back. I just needed to get out of there. I went to the ladies' room to try and clean the stain, but it was useless.

My phone buzzed in my clutch. It was a text.

From Chloe.

"Mrs. Kensington, I'm so terribly sorry about what happened. I really hope I didn't cause any trouble between you and Ethan."

I stared at the message, my hands shaking. It wasn't an apology. It was a victory lap. She was taunting me.

I left the gala without saying goodbye to anyone. The driver took me home in silence. As we pulled up to the estate, another car, one I didn't recognize, was pulling away from a side entrance near the garage. I didn't think much of it.

I went inside, the huge house feeling colder and emptier than ever. All I wanted was to get out of my stained dress and wash the night away. I was exhausted, emotionally drained. I decided to drive myself to the small cottage on the far end of the property, a place I sometimes went to be alone.

I got into my own car and started the engine. I drove down the long, winding driveway toward the main gate. As I approached a sharp curve, I pressed the brake pedal.

Nothing happened.

My foot slammed the pedal to the floor again and again. The car didn't slow down. It was accelerating, heading straight for the thick stone wall that bordered the estate. Panic seized me. I yanked the emergency brake. It made a horrible grinding sound, but the car kept speeding forward.

In the final second before impact, a single, horrifying thought flashed through my mind. The car pulling away from the garage. Chloe. The last person near my car. The brake line.

The world exploded in a crash of metal and shattering glass. Then, everything went dark.

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