Chapter 2

Her words dripped with false kindness, her sneer barely hidden. She thought she’d secured herself a glittering future.

I almost pitied her. Almost.

If only she knew what I had endured. The price I paid for that so-called perfect marriage.

Silas had never been the devoted husband he pretended to be. And the children I bore him? They were never the result of love.

Silas was almost like Jaxon, but with one difference—he cared about appearances. He cared about how people saw him, about his reputation, about the perfect picture he painted in public.

Behind closed doors, it was another story.

At the start of our marriage, we struggled to have children. The problem was Silas’s. But still, he laid the blame at my feet. My body, my failure, my infertility.

He paraded me through hospitals, demanding procedure after procedure, forcing me through endless IVF shots until my arms were bruised and my spirit broken.

Eventually, I did get pregnant. And to the world, Silas looked like the devoted husband who had finally been blessed with an heir.

At Silas’s countless social gatherings, he posed with me on his arm, smiling, protective, the very picture of a man who adored his wife.

And then the doors would shut, and I was treated no better than his staff. If not worse.

The only sin Silas avoided was striking me. Everything else—every way a man could degrade and disrespect a woman—he excelled at.

“That’s good to hear, Lila.” I smiled sweetly at her across the room. “I truly hope you’ll be happy in your upcoming marriage. I heard Silas Vane could be… rather harsh.”

Her face tightened, just for a second. “Bitter much, Seraphina? Are you jealous? Because I get to marry Silas, and you don’t?”

“No, of course not.” My smile never faltered. “I just want to make sure my little sister won’t regret today’s choice. Sometimes a man isn’t what he seems, you know.”

“Don’t try to influence me,” Lila snapped, her chin tilting high. “I’ll have the perfect marriage. I’ll give Father everything he wants. As for you and your Lucien Blackwell? Let’s just hope you don’t end up discarded at the end.”

She rolled her eyes, triumphant, and swept away.

I held my smile until she was gone. Let’s hope you never regret it, Lila. Because with Silas, regret isn’t an option. It’s either endurance or nothing.

…

The months that followed were unbearable. Lila never stopped talking. What Silas had bought her. Where Silas had taken her. Jewelry. Dresses. Dinners. A dream spun into words until I wanted to gag.

And Lucien? I hadn’t seen him once since our engagement was announced.

“Your Mr. Blackwell hasn’t shown up once, has he?” Lila sneered one morning, her lips curling. “Too poor to take you shopping?”

I ignored her, smoothing my dress. “Don’t mind me, Lila. Just focus on your own wedding.”

Her laugh was sharp. She opened her mouth again, but the butler entered before she could draw blood.

“Miss Dusks,” he said with a bow, carrying a polished wooden box. “Mr. Blackwell left this for you.”

My head snapped up. “He didn’t come in?”

“He said it would be bad fortune to see the bride before the wedding. A very handsome, very gentle man, if I may say so, Miss Dusk.” The butler’s eyes twinkled as he passed me the box.

Our wedding was three days away.

“What is it? What did he give you?” Lila was practically clawing for the box, her greed thinly veiled.

I pulled it against my chest and stood. “I’m tired. Father, if you’ll excuse me.”

…

As soon as I shut the door to my room, I carried the box to my dresser. My hands lingered on the lid. What could Lucien Blackwell possibly have given me?

When I opened it, my breath caught.

A diamond necklace. Not just any diamond, either. I had never seen a piece this luminous, this unapologetically extravagant. Every inch of it sparkled like captured starlight.

For weeks, I had been preparing myself to fund my own wedding—dress, jewelry, everything. The Blackwells were a fallen house, and I had assumed Lucien would bring nothing but his name. I never imagined he would give me something so breathtaking.

Beneath the necklace lay a small envelope.

I unfolded the note inside, Lucien’s handwriting clean and firm:

Miss Dusk, this necklace is a Blackwell heirloom. By giving it to you, I hope you see my gratitude for our marriage. I wish for your happiness as much as my own, and I hope to see you wear this on our wedding day.

No woman hated diamonds. And no woman could resist this diamond. The necklace gleamed as though the world itself had been set in silver and fire.

With trembling hands, I lifted it free and fastened it around my throat. It sat perfectly, like it had been made for me. For the first time, I could almost see it—the dress I had chosen, this necklace at my throat, and myself walking down the aisle.

…

The wedding day arrived far too quickly. At Father’s insistence, Lila and I were to marry on the same day, in the same hotel, each with our own ballroom. Lila insisted on joining me in my bridal suite, pretending it was for sisterhood. I knew better.

“Sera, look at my dress.” She twirled in satin and lace, smug as a queen. “Isn’t this the most stunning gown you’ve ever seen?” Her gaze flicked over mine, and her lip curled. “Plain. Are you really going to wear that on your wedding day? Well, I suppose when you’re marrying a Blackwell, you can’t expect to dress like royalty.”

I ignored her, carefully applying my lipstick.

She smirked at my silence. “You don’t have to pretend, Sera. I know you feel terrible. You must regret—”

For once, I cut her off. Slowly, I turned, letting the light catch the diamonds at my throat. “What do you think of this necklace?”

Her expression faltered. “Where did you get that? Fake diamonds?”

“Real,” I said evenly. “Lucien gave me this when we were engaged. He asked me to wear it today.”

I rose, smoothing my gown, and walked toward the door. Just before leaving, I glanced back at her.

“Here’s some advice, Lila. Don’t brag about things you don’t understand.”

Her face twisted, red with fury. “You—”

But I didn’t stay to hear the rest. I closed the door behind me and walked toward my ballroom, the necklace gleaming like a shield against every sneer and every lie.