Chapter 1 1

I stood by the gilded archway, a shadow in a simple dress, my hands clasped tight. Tonight, I was not Katlynn Torres. I was Kurt Salazar's assistant, a title that tasted like ash in my mouth. My real, painful task for the Starlight Charity Gala was already complete. It was draped over the shoulders of Kurt's date for the evening, a stunning, hand-sewn gown I had poured weeks of my life into. It was another one of his tests, I'd told myself, another way to prove my devotion.

Kurt made his entrance, a prince gliding through the ballroom, but he barely glanced at the woman wearing my creation. His eyes were locked on Seraphina Vance. She was a vision in a gown by some world-famous designer, and when Kurt reached her side, his voice carried across the marble floor.

"Incredible," he said, loud enough for me to hear. "Absolutely breathtaking, Seraphina." He never once mentioned the dress on his own date's back.

Then his eyes found me. He crooked a finger, a silent, imperious summons.

"Katlynn. Champagne."

I nodded, my throat tight, and turned to the bar. My role was clear: I was the help.

Later, a collective gasp rippled through the crowd. A guest had stumbled, sloshing red wine down the front of Seraphina's pristine white dress. She looked horrified.

Before anyone could react, Kurt moved. He strode directly to me, his face a mask of cold fury. Without a word, he ripped the cashmere shawl from my shoulders. It was my mother's, a priceless, irreplaceable piece of her that I always wore.

He didn't hesitate. He used the delicate, hand-embroidered fabric to crudely blot the red stain on Seraphina's gown, smearing the wine, ruining the cashmere beyond repair. He then tossed the crumpled, stained mess back at me.

"It's just a shawl," he hissed, his voice low and sharp. "Don't cause a scene."

My breath hitched. The room swam. Then a figure blocked my view of Kurt. It was my brother, Kaleb. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his face radiating a cold fury that was far more terrifying than Kurt's hot anger.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Salazar?" Kaleb's voice was dangerously quiet.

Kurt just scoffed. "Relax, Torres. I'll buy her a new one."

Kaleb grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the spectacle. "Kat," he pleaded, his voice trembling with rage. "Please, open your eyes. Look at what he does to you."

Tears streamed down my face, hot and shameful. "He was just stressed," I whispered, defending the very man who had just publicly annihilated a piece of my heart. The lie felt flimsy even to my own ears.

I left the gala alone, clutching the ruined shawl to my chest. As I waited for a taxi, I hid behind a thick marble column, not wanting anyone to see me. That's when I heard his voice again, laced with a cold, dismissive laugh. He was talking to his friend, Rhys Chandler.

"She's perfectly manageable," Kurt said. "I just need her to finish one last project. Once she delivers the wedding gown, she'll have served her purpose. Then, Seraphina is all that matters."