Chapter 2

The city skyline rose up ahead, a forest of glass and steel that pricked a sky bruised with the colors of twilight.

It felt alien, hostile.

Ethan drove with a steady hand on the wheel, the familiar weight of his old SUV a small comfort.

In the back, strapped securely in his car seat, his three-year-old son, Leo, babbled to his stuffed dinosaur, oblivious to the tension radiating from his father.

They were returning to the belly of the beast.

Mr. Davis's party was being held in a penthouse suite that probably cost more than the entire town of Havenwood.

When Ethan walked in, carrying Leo on his hip, the opulence was suffocating.

Crystal chandeliers dripped light onto a sea of designer dresses and tailored suits. The air hummed with forced laughter and the clinking of champagne flutes.

Across the room, he saw them.

Sophia and Mark stood near the entrance, greeting guests as if they were royalty holding court.

Sophia wore a shimmering silver dress that clung to her body, a strained, brilliant smile plastered on her face. Mark was a study in smug satisfaction, his arm possessively around her waist.

They embodied the power and privilege of this world, a world that had chewed Ethan up and spat him out.

Sophia' s eyes scanned the crowd and then locked onto him.

Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second before it returned, sharper and more malicious than before.

She disentangled herself from Mark and glided towards Ethan, her silver dress rustling with every step.

"Ethan," she said, her voice loud enough for those nearby to hear. "I'm surprised you actually showed up."

Her gaze dropped to the small boy in his arms. Her lip curled.

"And who is this? Did you rent a child for the occasion? A little charity case from that sad little town to make me feel sorry for you?"

The people around them fell silent, their eyes wide with interest.

They smelled blood in the water.

Ethan held Leo a little tighter, turning his body slightly to shield his son from her toxic gaze.

"His name is Leo," Ethan said, his voice low and firm. "He's my son."

Sophia let out a short, ugly laugh.

"Your son? Oh, that's rich. Don't be ridiculous, Ethan. That's impossible."

She leaned closer, her voice a poisonous whisper.

"Who's the mother? Let me guess. One of those tired-looking women from your office? Did you get her pregnant and then feel obligated to marry her? How noble of you."

Each word was a carefully aimed dart, designed to belittle him, to strip him of his dignity in front of this audience.

Mark had followed her over, a bored expression on his face.

He placed a hand on Sophia's arm.

"Sophia, darling, let's not waste our time on this," he murmured, not out of any sense of decency, but because her public display was becoming unseemly.

But Sophia wasn't finished.

The sight of Ethan, so calm and unbowed, was an affront to her. The presence of the child was an even greater one.

Leo, sensing the rising tension and overwhelmed by the loud noises and strange faces, began to whimper.

He buried his face in Ethan's neck, his small hands gripping his father's shirt.

"It's okay, buddy," Ethan murmured, his voice softening instantly as he turned his back on Sophia. He rubbed Leo's back, his entire focus shifting to the small, trembling body in his arms. "It's just a lot of noise. Daddy's here."

He walked away from her without another word, leaving her standing there, fuming in her silver dress, the victor of a battle no one else knew had been fought and lost.