Chapter 1: The Gilded Cage
The garden of the Vane Estate in The Hamptons was a postcard of oppressive perfection. It was the kind of scene that appeared in glossy lifestyle magazines, where the sunlight filtered through the leaves of ancient oaks just so, and the grass was manicured to within an inch of its life. Hundreds of imported white roses adorned the tables, their scent heavy and cloying in the humid afternoon air. A string quartet played a soft, unrecognizable melody that barely managed to disguise the razor-thin tension vibrating through the crowd.
I sat on a blue velvet throne, eight months pregnant, smiling with the stiffness of a porcelain doll about to crack.
My husband, Stefan Vane, heir to a pharmaceutical empire that spanned three continents, stood beside me. His hand rested on my shoulder, his fingers digging into my flesh with a force that went beyond affection. It was possession. It was a warning.
“Smile more, darling,” Stefan whispered in my ear, his breath smelling of expensive champagne and absolute control. “My mother is watching you. And so are the investors. Don’t ruin this with your tired face.”
I nodded, feeling a sharp kick from the baby. A girl. Stefan had already decided to call her Victoria, a name that sounded like a conquest. He hadn’t consulted me. I wanted to call her Hope, but in the Vane household, my opinion was an unnecessary ornament, like the third fork on the table setting.
