Chapter 1 - The Wedding-Cake Facade
The champagne was warm, the smiles were plastic, and Sloan's jaw ached from pretending to be the perfect sister. Paige's wedding was the social event of the decade, a glittering display of their father's bought-and-paid-for influence. Sloan wanted nothing more than to slip out through the back before anyone noticed. The corset of Sloan's bridesmaid dress felt like a cage made from seafoam-green polyester and family obligation. She tugged at the boning digging into her lower ribs and scanned the grand ballroom of the Belmont Hotel. Crystal chandeliers hummed overhead, casting a harsh, artificial glow over the imported white orchids that smelled faintly of vanilla and decay. Nearly four hundred of the city's wealthiest and most dishonest people gathered beneath one roof, drinking vintage wine they hadn't earned and trading favors disguised as congratulations. At the exact center of it stood Paige. The bride looked radiant, naturally, draped in a custom silk gown that cost more than the average starter home, laughing against the collar of her new husband, Carter. Carter possessed the aggressive jawline, perfectly capped teeth, and effortless arrogance of generational wealth, looking alongside Paige like a wedding-cake topper brought to life. Perfect, hollow, and entirely untouchable. Sloan took another sip of the lukewarm champagne, letting the bubbles sting her tongue, hating how sweet it tasted.
“Smile, Sloan. You look like you're attending a wake.” The voice belonged to Richard, her father, who did not even bother to look at her when he spoke. His eyes were busy tracking the room, measuring who was talking to the governor and who appeared to be avoiding the district attorney, treating the celebration like a high-stakes trading floor. Richard was a man who measured his entire human value in handshakes, real estate portfolios, and offshore accounts hidden behind layers of shell corporations.
“I am smiling, Dad,” Sloan replied, curving her lips into a practiced, empty crescent that reached nowhere near her eyes. “It's my sister's wedding. I'm overflowing with joy.” Richard finally turned toward her, his expression tightening into a sharp scowl. He adjusted his expensive silk tie, the diamond tie tack catching the harsh light of the chandeliers.
“Don't ruin tonight with your usual brooding. The senator is at table four. I need this merger to go through, and I need the family looking unified.” He lowered his voice into a dangerous hiss. “That means you stand there, you look pretty, and you don't say anything cynical.”
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“Unified?” Sloan almost laughed, the bitter sound catching in her throat. “Right. That’s a funny word for a firing squad.” She was the shadow to Paige's sun, the forgotten background detail. Paige was the golden child, the obedient daughter who married the right man from the right family at the right country club. Sloan was the mistake, the daughter who preferred dusty old bookstores to charity boards, archiving city records instead of shaking hands with corrupt politicians. She was tolerated only when necessary, dragged out for family photographs like an antique piece of furniture, then pushed back toward the dark edges once she had served her purpose.
“Just until the cake is cut,” Richard muttered, patting her shoulder with an empty gesture that looked paternal from a distance but felt like a vice grip up close. Then he turned away to intercept a state judge. Sloan retreated toward the perimeter of the ballroom until her back pressed against the cool, silk-lined wallpaper, watching the endless parade of forced laughter and calculated glances. Across the dance floor, Carter caught her eye, flashing a slick, knowing wink before turning his attention back to another bridesmaid who was laughing far too hard at his jokes. A familiar knot of nausea twisted inside her stomach. Paige knew Carter was unfaithful, and Richard knew it too, but the real estate merger was simply too profitable to care. Sloan set her champagne glass down on a passing tray, preparing her escape.
