Daphne's POV The day started like any other.The soft hum of the ballet theatre surrounded me—light footsteps tapping on the wooden floors, voices exchanging warm greetings, the occasional sound of classical music drifting from the practice rooms. I had just finished reviewing a stack of paperwork from the director’s office and needed a moment to stretch.I stood up from behind the desk and rolled my shoulders, letting out a small sigh. The air conditioning was a little too cold, but it helped keep me alert. I wrapped my fingers around my warm coffee cup and walked across the spacious office toward the tall window that faced the city.The floor-length glass gave me a perfect view of the street below. The sky was clear, dotted with slow-moving clouds. People walked along the sidewalks, busy with their lives. Cars moved steadily on the roads. The world felt so… normal.I took a sip of coffee and stared down at the parking lot of the ballet theatre.Then something caught my eye.A black
Christine’s POVThe sound of the rain tapping against the windows pulled me from my sleep. I blinked at the ceiling for a few seconds, feeling uneasy. I wasn’t sure why, but something in my chest felt tight.I sat up, rubbing my arms. The air was cold, and I could hear the wind howling softly outside.Xavier was still asleep beside me. His breathing was even. I didn't want to wake him.I got out of bed and slipped into my robe. The rain was getting heavier. I decided to check if all the windows were closed properly.The living room was dim, only the soft glow from the hallway light spilling in. I made my way to the windows, pulling each one shut tightly. One of them had been left a bit open, probably by Joan earlier in the day.Typical Joan.As I turned to leave, something told me to check on her. I didn’t know why. Maybe it was the way she’d been acting lately—quiet, but distracted. Or maybe I was just overthinking things.Still, I padded silently down the hallway toward her room.Ju
Christine's POV Evenings in the Wycliffe household were usually defined by soft classical music playing in the background, the clinking of glass over dinner, and Xavier’s carefully curated blend of scotch swirling in his tumbler. Joan would often be sprawled across the velvet chaise in the parlor, still in her ballet leotard, legs stretched in a perfect split as she scrolled through her phone or recited dance counts to herself.Tonight wasn’t much different—on the surface.I was curled up in the armchair, legs tucked beneath me, sipping from a cup of herbal tea while Xavier paced quietly near the window, phone in hand. The sheer curtains billowed with the night breeze. Joan, in her usual dramatic flair, had collapsed on the carpet after dinner, twirling one of her satin pointe shoes between her fingers, muttering something about her sore ankles.Everything seemed perfectly mundane… until Xavier’s phone lit up.He answered it immediately, stepping aside and lowering his voice.My ears
Daphne's POV As soon as the door clicked shut behind Christine, I let out a slow, shaky breath.My palms were damp. My heart still pounded in my chest like a drum. Every word, every smile, every carefully timed chuckle during that conversation had taken a little piece of me. It was like walking through a minefield in heels.I sat down on Daisy’s...my chair, and leaned back, closing my eyes for a moment.That had been too close.Christine had never visited me casually before. Never been one to care for “cousin bonding” unless there was a camera or gossip column nearby. Her sudden interest in spending time together, coupled with her unusually gentle smile and probing questions, had raised every internal alarm bell I had.She was testing me.And I think I failed. Not completely. But just enough for her to feel it.I replayed every moment in my mind like a movie reel on fire. The innocent stories she brought up, shared vacations from when we were children, the name of Daisy’s ballet inst
Christine’s POVThe soft hum of the evening breeze whispered through the partially opened windows of the study. A half-empty glass of red wine sat beside me, the rim smudged with the faintest trace of plum lipstick. I’d been swirling it in slow circles for the past five minutes, staring not at the wine but at the flames dancing in the fireplace.Something wasn’t right.No...someone wasn’t right and that someone was Daisy.Or... whoever she was pretending to be.I’d watched her closely at the board meeting earlier today. Her smile was just a little too perfect. Her tone, just a bit too careful. She dodged questions from Xavier with the grace of a ballerina—ironic, considering the context—but not with the same sharpness Daisy once wielded.The Daisy I knew wasn’t afraid of conflict. She’d meet you head-on, knock you back with a smile, and then walk away in Louboutins like nothing happened.But the woman who sat in that boardroom today? She flinched when Xavier questioned her about the 2
Christine’s POVThe hum of the car engine was the only sound filling the silence between us as Xavier drove through the dimly lit city. The evening shadows cast long patterns on the dashboard, and I found myself watching the way my husband’s jaw tightened as he shifted gears. He hadn't spoken since we left the boardroom, and neither had I. But my thoughts were loud.Too loud.Finally, I turned to him. “Xavier,” I said softly, not wanting to sound accusatory just yet. “Have you noticed anything strange about Daisy lately?”He didn’t respond immediately. His hand flexed on the steering wheel. Then, he exhaled sharply and gave a low chuckle.“I thought I was the only one going crazy,” he said. “She’s... different.”I folded my arms, leaning back into the seat. “Exactly. There’s something off. The way she speaks, how she carries herself. Did you notice how unsure she was when you asked her about last year’s gala? Daisy never forgets those details.”He nodded. “And she used to cut me off w