Chapter 3

The next morning at seven, I went to the law firm to pick up my last document.

I'd just stepped outside when I heard laughter behind me.

"Well, well. If it isn't the eldest Moretti daughter."

"I heard she was supposed to marry into the Salvatorre family by the end of the year. But now her fiancé is following Chloe around."

"If I were her, I'd die of shame."

A group of socialites blocked the street corner. The one in front was a new friend of Chloe's.

She looked me up and down, then suddenly grabbed the camera around my neck.

"This is what you wouldn't lend to Chloe?"

I grabbed her wrist. "Let go."

"Why so aggressive?" She raised her voice deliberately. "Chloe was right. You really think you're the Salvatorre Donna, don't you?"

Someone behind her chimed in. "Too bad. Everyone's favoring Chloe now."

"Damian even spent three hours helping Chloe try on dresses. Maybe the bride will get swapped too."

More and more people gathered to watch.

I looked across the street.

My parents and Damian were standing there. My father was holding Chloe's custom gown box. My mother was checking the ball invitations. Damian was carrying the afternoon tea Chloe ordered.

Damian saw me too.

But he only frowned and didn't come over.

Once, when someone insulted me at a party, Damian bought their father's company overnight and made them apologize in front of half of Manhattan.

Now I was being surrounded and grabbed, and he acted like he couldn't see.

Chloe jogged over. "Don't do this. Vivian's just in a bad mood."

The girl holding my camera sneered. "Chloe, you're too kind. She's jealous because you have people who love you. She won't even give you a few childhood videos, and you're still defending her?"

Chloe's eyes reddened immediately.

Damian finally walked over, but only to shield Chloe behind him.

"Vivian, if you have a problem, take it up with us. Don't take it out on Chloe."

Before I could speak, the girl behind me yanked the camera strap. The camera crashed onto the marble steps.

Someone else "accidentally" knocked over a flower shop's wooden bucket. Dirty water splashed all over me.

Laughter erupted. "Sorry, my hand slipped."

I wiped the water off my face and bent down to pick up the camera.

Damian glanced at me, annoyed. "If your clothes are wet, go home and change. Don't throw a tantrum out here."

So when they humiliated me in public, it was a slip of the hand. If I objected, I was throwing a tantrum.

I didn't look at them again. I picked up my document and left the law firm.

Half an hour later, I'd just changed clothes when someone pounded on my apartment door.

My parents, Damian, and Chloe burst in.

"Where's the charm?" my father demanded.

"Chloe was wearing it earlier. It disappeared."

I leaned against the door. "So?"

His face was cold. "You're the only one who touched her today. Who else would take it?"

He walked straight into my bedroom and pulled open drawers. My mother and Damian started searching the closet and desk.

They'd never knocked before entering my room my whole life. I used to think nothing of it.

Now I understood. They just believed everything I had was theirs to handle.

My father opened the closet and saw only a few clothes left.

"Why are you packing?"

My chest tightened.

My mother glanced at the suitcase. "She's trying to scare us."

Damian snorted. "Vivian, how old are you? Running away from home?"

They laughed easily.

Not one of them considered that I might actually be leaving.

Then Chloe pulled a charm out of her own pocket.

"Found it!"

She'd dropped it herself.

Chloe flushed and looked at me. "Vivian, I'm sorry. I accused you wrongly."

Damian just ruffled her hair. "It's fine. You found it. Stop crying."

No one thought to apologize to me.

Then Chloe noticed the video files on my computer. Ten years old, burying a time capsule at the pier. Fifteen, at the Hamptons. Every birthday.

"The full versions are here!" Her eyes lit up. "Can I use these for my ball's opening video?"

"No."

I stepped forward and shut the laptop.

The light in Chloe's eyes died.

My father blocked me. "What's wrong with looking? Didn't you agree to help her edit?"

"I changed my mind."

Her tears fell immediately.

Damian's face darkened. He grabbed the mouse. "She wants the videos. If you don't want to appear, just delete yourself."

"Damian, don't touch that."

He ignored me and selected every file tagged with my name.

I reached for it, but my father caught my arm. "It's just a few videos. Not like it's your life."

The next second, Damian hit delete.

The progress bar ran to the end.

My first time learning to ride a bike. My first equestrian medal. And when I was sixteen, Damian looking into the camera, promising to marry me one day.

All sent to the recycle bin by his own hand.

"There. Done." He let go of the mouse, his face cold. "In future memory videos, you won't appear."

He just wanted to provoke me.

But he didn't know those words would come true very soon.

The airline sent a reminder. Check-in was open for tomorrow's flight to Boston.

I closed the laptop and zipped my suitcase.

Eighteen years, and it all fit into a twenty-eight-inch box.