Chapter 1

The invitation felt like a lead weight in my hand, its expensive cardstock a cruel reminder of a world we barely belonged to anymore. Covington. A name that once meant something in New England, now just a faded echo. My upcoming marriage to Ethan was supposed to be a lifeline, his family' s new money a buffer against our old family' s slow financial bleed.

But rumors were poison, and the latest one was potent, Julian Thorne, the tech phantom of the Pacific coast, was looking for a companion. Not a wife, not a partner, a "companion." The whispers painted him as a monster, disfigured, a black widow who devoured reputations and spat out ruined women. His selection process was as mysterious as he was.

Then the news hit our small, anxious circle, Thorne' s people had chosen.

Not me, Ava.

My half-sister, Hailey.

Hailey, golden and favored, my father' s daughter by his second wife, the one who embodied all the social ambition our family desperately craved. I was the artist, the quiet one with the "sharp wit" that mostly got me into trouble.

That night, the night the news became official in our house, Ethan found me in the dusty conservatory, where I was sketching the wilting orchids, a fitting metaphor for our family' s fortunes.

He looked agitated, his usual smooth demeanor ruffled.

"Ava," he said, his voice urgent, taking my hands. They were cold.

"We need to elope, tonight, right now."

I stared at him, my heart giving a stupid, hopeful leap.

"Elope? Ethan, what are you talking about?"

"No time to explain, just trust me. Please, Ava. It' s the only way."

He was persuasive, desperate. I, a fool, thought it was love, a grand romantic gesture to sweep me away from the suffocating weight of my family' s expectations and Hailey' s looming triumph.

I said yes.

The ceremony was a blur, a sterile room in a town I didn' t know, a justice of the peace who looked bored. It felt hollow, not at all like the dreams I' d once had.

Afterward, in a cheap motel room that smelled of stale cigarettes and regret, Ethan finally dropped the bomb.

"Hailey," he began, pacing, "she was chosen by Thorne."

I nodded slowly. "I know. The whole world seems to know."

"You don't understand," he said, running a hand through his hair. "This changes everything. You have to tell everyone we were already married, before Hailey was chosen. Secretly married."

The room tilted.

"What? Why, Ethan?"

"To protect her!" he exclaimed, as if it were obvious. "If she' s already engaged, or rather, if her sister is married to the man she was supposedly seeing, it creates a scandal. Thorne won' t want her then. She' ll be 'unavailable.' It saves her from him, don't you see?"

He grabbed my shoulders. "Ava, you' ll be my wife, my true wife. We' ll have to deal with some awkwardness, sure, but I' ll manage Hailey. She' ll be fine."

Manage Hailey. The words hung in the air, ugly and revealing. He wanted me as a shield, a convenient, deniable wife, while he kept Hailey, and her potential Thorne connection, on a string.

My stomach churned. The cheap ring on my finger suddenly felt like a shackle.

"You want me to lie?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "To be your public excuse while you still pursue my sister?"

He had the grace to look away. "It' s not like that. It' s to protect her. And us, in the long run."

"Protect her from what, Ethan? A rich man? Or protect your access to her?"

The disgust was a bitter taste in my mouth. This wasn't love, this was a transaction, and I was the worthless currency.