1

Valeria

The Hayes mansion was always cold in the morning. Even in August, when the summer sun was supposed to warm the heavy velvet curtains and the polished marble floors, the heat never reached the inside of these walls.

I woke up at six, just like I did every day. The left side of the mattress was already cold and smooth. Tobias was gone.

I laid there for a moment, listening to the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Today was August 12th. Four years ago today, I wore a white dress and walked down an aisle toward a man who barely smiled when he placed a diamond ring on my finger. Four years. A wood anniversary, people called it.

I sat up and pulled the silk robe over my shoulders. I told myself I should be used to this by now. Tobias was a busy man. He ran Hayes Enterprises, a company that bought and sold things worth more money than I could ever comprehend. He worked sixteen hours a day, seven days a week. It was normal for him to leave before sunrise. That was what I kept telling myself, over and over, until the words started to feel like truth.

I washed my face with cold water and stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes looked tired. Dark circles shadowed the soft pale skin under my eyelashes. I combed my dark hair, letting it fall past my shoulders in long, loose waves. I looked soft. Too soft for a house like this.

When I stepped out into the long corridor, my feet made no sound against the thick Persian rugs. I walked past the guest rooms, past Tobias’s study, until I stopped in front of the double doors at the end of the east wing.

The lock was heavy and brass. Tobias kept the key in his desk drawer, but today, the door was cracked open just a fraction of an inch. A housekeeper must have forgotten to latch it after dusting.

My heart beat a little faster. Tobias hated it when anyone went inside this room. He didn't even like the servants entering unless he was standing right behind them. But my hand moved on its own. I pushed the door open, just enough to step inside.

The air smelled like old paper and dried lavender. It was a beautiful room, filled with books and light, but my eyes went straight to the center wall above the fireplace.

A large golden frame hung there. Inside it was a photograph of a woman with long, dark hair and dark eyes. She was laughing, her chin tilted toward the sky, holding a bouquet of white lilies.

Serena Vale.

Tobias’s fiancée. The woman who died in a car crash six months before Tobias met me.

I moved closer, stopping just a few feet away. I stared at her face, then reached up to touch my own cheek. We had the same oval jawline. The same high cheekbones. The same straight, delicate nose. If you put us side by side in a crowd, people would think we were sisters.

“He only picked her because she looks like Serena,” I had heard the whisper at a charity gala three years ago. I was standing behind a tall silk screen in the powder room when two women said it. “It’s almost creepy, isn’t it? Like he bought a replacement doll.”

Back then, I swallowed the lump in my throat and pretended I hadn't heard. Today, looking at Serena’s smiling face, the pain felt brand new, fresh and sharp like a razor cut.

"Mrs. Hayes?"

I jumped, turning around quickly. Mrs. Gable, the head housekeeper, was standing in the doorway, holding a tray of clean linens. Her face turned pale when she saw where I was.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, stepping out of the room and closing the heavy door behind me. "The door was unlocked."

"Mr. Hayes would be very upset if he knew, ma'am," Mrs. Gable whispered, her eyes darting around as if Tobias might appear out of thin air. "He... he keeps that room exactly as Miss Serena left it. Every year on her birthday, he spent the whole day in there. He used to bring fresh lilies every single week."

She stopped herself, realizing what she had just said. She looked at me, her cheeks turning red. "Oh, child. I didn't mean..."

"It's alright, Mrs. Gable," I said, forcing a tiny smile onto my lips even as my chest felt hollow. "Thank you. I'll be down for breakfast soon."

I walked down the grand staircase, every step heavy. Tobias spent every year celebrating Serena’s birthday. But today was our anniversary, and he hadn't even said goodbye before leaving for the office.

I sat alone at the long mahogany dining table. The silver tea service was laid out, steaming quietly. I took a sip of tea, but it tasted like water.

The front doors clicked open, followed by the sharp, rhythmic sound of high heels tapping against the marble foyer. I stood up as Eleanor Hayes walked into the dining room.

Tobias’s grandmother was seventy-two years old, but she moved with the strength of a woman half her age. She wore a dark blue suit, perfectly tailored, and a string of pearls around her neck. Her sharp grey eyes swept over me, taking in my simple beige dress and pale face.

"Grandmother," I said softly, standing up. "Good morning. I didn't know you were visiting today."

"I am not visiting you, Valeria," Eleanor said cold, not bothering to take a seat. She placed her leather handbag on the table with a firm thud. "I came to drop off papers for Tobias’s assistant to pick up."

"I can give them to him," I offered.

Eleanor gave me a long, cold look. "No need. You have enough trouble managing yourself." She paused, her eyes narrowing as she looked at my face. "You look pale. Are you sick?"

"I'm fine. Just tired."

"You should take better care of yourself," Eleanor said dryly. "Though I suppose it doesn't matter much. Looking like Serena is the only reason you are sitting in this house, Valeria. Do not forget that."

The words hit me like a physical blow. The air rushed out of my lungs.

"Grandmother—"

"Don't call me that," she interrupted, raising a gloved hand. "You bear the Hayes name because my grandson was broken-hearted and needed something familiar to look at while he grieved. But being Mrs. Hayes does not make you family. Tobias would have never looked twice at a girl from a small town with no money and no pedigree if you didn't have that face. Remember your place."

My hands shook under the dining table. I dug my fingernails deep into the palms of my hands, feeling the sharp bite of skin against skin. The pain helped keep the tears inside my eyes. I refused to cry in front of her. I refused to give her that satisfaction.

"I understand," I said, my voice steady, almost emotionless.

Eleanor gave a brief, satisfied nod. "Good. I will have the driver take the papers to Tobias’s office."

She turned on her heel and walked out, her high heels tapping against the floor until the heavy oak front door shut behind her.

I sat back down in the empty room. Silence settled over the house again. I looked down at my hands. Red crescent marks were stamped into my palms where my nails had dug in.

I breathed in slowly, out slowly. Tonight will be different, I told myself, desperate to hold onto a tiny piece of hope. He just forgot the morning. He will remember tonight.

I spent the afternoon preparing. I told the kitchen staff they could take the evening off. I cooked dinner myself—a steak with roasted potatoes, the way Tobias liked it, and a rich chocolate tart for dessert. I bought candles and placed them in the center of the small dining table in the garden terrace. I wore a crimson dress, a color Serena never wore, wanting to look like myself for once.

By seven o'clock, the table was set. The candles were lit, casting a warm yellow light over the silver cutlery.

By nine o'clock, the food was cold.

By eleven o'clock, the candles had burned down to tiny nubs of wax, dripping onto the clean tablecloth.

I sat at the table in the quiet dark, watching the flames flicker and die one by one. The house was completely still. I didn't eat. I couldn't swallow a single bite.

At twelve-fifteen, the sound of a car engine echoed from the driveway.

A few minutes later, the heavy front door clicked open. Heavy, tired footsteps walked into the hallway.

I stood up from the garden terrace and stepped into the living room. Tobias was unbuttoning his suit jacket, throwing it over the back of the sofa. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, his dark hair slightly messy. He looked exhausted.

He stopped when he saw me standing in the dim light of the hallway.

"Valeria?" he asked, his voice low and raspy. "Why are you still awake? It's past midnight."

I looked at his handsome face. The strong jaw, the dark eyes that always seemed to look right through me.

"Happy anniversary, Tobias," I said quietly.

Tobias froze. His hand stayed on his shirt collar. For a second, a look of realization washed over his features, quickly followed by annoyance and embarrassment.

"Valeria..." he started, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I... the board meeting ran late. The merger details were complicated. I lost track of the time."

"It's fine," I said. My voice sounded small, even to my own ears. "I made dinner, but it's cold now."

"We can celebrate tomorrow," he said, stepping toward me. His tone was dismissive, the same tone he used with his employees when a project was delayed. "I'll have my secretary book a table at that French restaurant you like."

He didn't get it. He really didn't get it. It wasn't about the food or the restaurant. It was about the fact that I had spent four years giving him my heart, and he couldn't even remember the day I became his wife.

Before I could answer, a sharp chime broke the silence.

Tobias’s phone was sitting on the wooden coffee table where he had tossed his keys. The screen lit up in the dim room, bright and white.

I looked down automatically.

A new text message appeared on the lock screen. The sender's name was saved as Chloe Vale. Serena’s younger sister.

The message read:

Tobias, please answer. We need to talk about Serena.