Chapter 2

The first dance ended with applause.

Noelle leaned into Ashton's shoulder, her cheeks prettily flushed.

The three childhood friends who had originally promised to be *my* partners were now crowding around them, champagne flutes extended like offerings.

Ashton cut through the guests and walked toward me.

He bent close. ""Noelle's position in this Family is fragile. You know what happens to people without protection in our world.The moment you came back, everything fell into your lap—the succession shortlist, the status. She fought for years, and because of blood alone, it's all gone."

“It was one dance,” he added. “You’ve always been generous.”

“If word of tonight gets out,” I cut him off, “what will people say? That the Steele heiress couldn’t even hold her own family’s event together?”

His brow furrowed.

"You overthink everything. Who would dare laugh at Vivian Steele?"

When I didn’t answer, his voice softened. "Vivian, you're strong. You can stand on your own. But Noelle is different."

"If I hadn't chosen her tonight—if people thought I didn't value her—she'd become the Family's castoff."

I lowered my gaze.

What he didn't know was that the succession battle inside the Steele Family had reached a knife's edge.

My father had made his position clear: either I married into a family as powerful as the Shaws, so Grandfather would have an excuse to remove me from the succession, or he would “arrange” a marriage to some backwoods nouveau riche and end the problem forever.

I'd hoped to buy time. Stay on the board a little longer.

But this one dance shattered every inch of ground I had left.

Noelle came trotting over, her gaze expectant as she looked up at Ashton.

“Ashton, will you introduce me to the other families? I’m not like Vivian. I don’t know how to work a room.”

"She always keeps a little notebook, you know—recording which family's son is great, which uncle has the rarest connections…"

She caught herself, pressing her fingers to her lips.

"I—I'm not calling her calculating… she's just… thorough."

The smiles of the nearby wives cooled.

"Recording each family's value? The Steele heiress certainly has *strategic*."

"No wonder she clawed her way onto the succession list within three years of coming home."

The whispers drifted over like smoke.

My blood went cold, degree by degree.

That notebook was Grandfather's assignment. When I first returned to the Family, he'd told me to study each family's strengths—their connections, their influence.

Ashton had even helped me with it.

Yet he said nothing in my defense.

Let me become the eye of the storm.

Noelle tugged at Ashton's sleeve. "Did I say the wrong thing again? I just admire how capable my sister is. I'm too stupid…"

He patted her head. "It's fine. Your sister has a big heart—she won't hold it against you."

Then he led Noelle away to greet the other guests.

"Ash—"

The whispers around me drowned out my voice.

"I actually felt sorry for her getting upstaged… turns out she really is that calculating."

I stood rooted in place. Cold to the bone.

I remembered the heavy rain three years ago, the day I was first brought back to the Steele mansion. I had grown up in an orphanage, then adopted into a family with decent means—but nothing compared to Crestfall City’s true elite.

The day I was claimed, Crestfall City was drowning in rain. I stood alone outside the ancestral estate gates. Grandfather had wanted to test me—kept the doors shut for nearly an hour.

That was where I met Ashton Shaw.

He'd walked up with an umbrella, stopped beside me, and said: "New to the family? Don't worry—I'll look out for you from now on."

Now he held his umbrella over someone else.

I set down my glass and turned toward the terrace.

The night wind was cold on my face. The composure I had forced myself to maintain cracked, just a little.

Grandfather would be back in seven days. If tonight’s story reached him, it would be a mark against me in his eyes—proof that the heiress he'd bet on couldn't command a room.

I stood there a long while before walking back inside.

Callum appeared suddenly, walking fast toward me. "Viv—don't go over there."

I followed his gaze. Ashton and Noelle were still spinning across the dance floor.

So he thought I was going to make a scene. Fight for a man.

Of the three childhood friends, Callum was the only one who'd shared those years with me before the adoption—those winters in the state orphanage on the south side of the city.

Back then, every time they handed out apples, I'd charge to the front and grab the biggest, reddest one.

Then hand it to him.

Because he was slow at everything. I was afraid he'd starve.

Later, when I was adopted, I used every penny of my allowance to persuade my adoptive parents to pay for his education at an expensive arts academy. I pushed him up, step by step, until he became a respected appraiser.

But even that—all that effort, all that soil I gave to a weed that grew from the same mud—could never compete with an untouchable moonlight that floated just out of reach.

I tried to walk past him.

His hand closed around my wrist from behind. "Be smart. Ashton already made his choice—if you go up there now, you'll only humiliate yourself more."

"Let go!"

I tried to wrench free. He gripped tighter.

In the struggle, my heel caught. I lost my balance backward— My back slammed against a pillar. My knees hit the marble with a dull, sickening crack.

Pain exploded through me.

Callum froze. "Why do you have to be like this? These three years you've had everything at the Steele estate—what does Noelle even have left?"