Chapter 1 - The First DominaThe flashbulbs outside the Ashbourne Club were blinding, turning the damp evening air into a storm of white light. Photographers who had ignored me for months—who had whispered behind my back when my father’s name was dragged through the legal gutters—were now scrambling, tripping over one another to get a clean shot of Roman Costa’s hand resting against the small of my back.
Caleb Reynolds stood near the grand entrance, his pristine white tuxedo looking entirely too tight for a man whose lungs had just been emptied of air. Beside him, Khloe Davies looked like a porcelain doll dipped in gold lamé, her hand clutching Caleb’s arm with a desperate grip. She had spent her entire life believing her father’s federal badge and judicial robe insulated her from the real world. She didn't know that the real world was currently standing two feet away from her, wearing a bespoke Brioni suit and a neutral expression that promised absolute ruin.
"Breathe, Sadi," Roman murmured, his voice a low, steady rumble that cut through the shutter clicks. "You aren't the one who has something to lose tonight."
As we crossed the threshold, the ambient murmur of three hundred elite guests died instantly. It wasn't just my presence; it was Roman. In this city, men like Judge Arthur Davies wrote the laws, but men like Roman Costa owned the infrastructure that kept the city running. To see Roman walk uninvited into an upper-crust wedding of the season was like watching a tiger stroll into a sheepfold.
Caleb’s mother, Evelyn Reynolds, dropped her champagne flute. The crystal shattered against the imported Italian marble, the sharp sound echoing through the vaulted hall like a gunshot.
"Roman," Caleb choked out, his voice cracking slightly before he managed to recover a semblance of hostly composure. He forced a strained, synthetic smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I... we didn't realize you were on the guest list."
Roman didn't break stride. He guided me forward until we were standing directly under the crystal chandelier, close enough that I could smell the expensive tobacco and cedar on Caleb's collar—the same scent I had endured for seven years before he threw me away like a worn-out coat.
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"I wasn't," Roman said smoothly, his dark eyes locking onto Caleb's twitching jawline. "But Miss Sadi was gracious enough to bring me as her plus-one. We wouldn't have missed this for the world, Reynolds. After all, Sadi helped pay for a significant portion of your lifestyle leading up to this evening."
The color drained entirely from Caleb's face. Khloe blinked, her eyes darting between Caleb and me, the pristine narrative of her fairy-tale wedding starting to crack right down the middle.
