My father, silver-haired and authoritative, sat at the head of the table. He was pleased. His business empire, built on food processing, was now cemented by this strategic corporate merger disguised as a marriage. He occasionally cast approving glances at me, and those glances made my skin crawl, as if I had just been successfully sold. Next to him sat my younger sister, Simone. Bright, capricious, and always the center of attention. Today, she wore a tight, wine-red dress that accentuated her figure. She was bored, listlessly poking at her dessert and shooting sultry glances at Darius. I was used to those glances. Simone always looked that way at everything that belonged to me: first my toys, then my friends, and now, my husband. But Darius, it seemed, paid her no mind.