The sun rose over Manhattan like a searchlight, cold and unforgiving. I hadn't slept. I had spent the night pacing the perimeter of the master suite, my bare feet sinking into plush cream carpet that felt like walking on clouds made of arsenic. I had eventually shed the plum-colored gown, leaving it in a heap on the floor like the skin of a shed identity. In its place, I wore a silk robe Silas had provided white, virginal, and entirely transparent in its purpose.
At exactly seven fifty-five, a sharp knock echoed through the door. It wasn't Silas. It was Mrs. Gable, the housekeeper whose eyes always seemed to be measuring me for a coffin. She entered with a silver tray bearing tea and a single green apple.
The designers are in the East Wing, she said, her voice a dry rasp. Mr. Vane expects you there in ten minutes. He mentioned you were feeling delicate this morning.
Delicate. Another word for the lie. I nodded, my throat too tight to swallow the tea. I dressed in a soft, oversized cashmere sweater and leggings, a costume designed to make me look soft and maternal. I avoided the mirror; I didn't want to see the hollow-eyed girl who had sold her reflection for a brother's heartbeat.
When I reached the East Wing, the air was thick with the smell of expensive paint and fresh sawdust. Silas was standing by the window, a cup of black coffee in his hand. He looked as though he had never slept, his jawline shadowed with stubble, his suit jacket discarded to reveal the crisp white lines of his shirt. He was talking to a woman in a floral silk blouse who held a tablet like a weapon.
Ah, here she is, Silas said, and the way he smiled made my skin crawl. It was a look of pure, predatory affection. Darling, this is Ella. She's the best in the city. She's here to make sure the nursery is perfect .
Ella beamed at me, her gaze dropping instinctively to my waist. We were thinking of a celestial theme, Mrs. Vane. Deep navy blues, hand-painted silver leaf constellations on the ceiling. A crib carved from solid walnut. Silas mentioned you wanted something timeless.
I looked at the empty room. It was vast, flooded with light, and utterly haunting. To anyone else, it was a room for a new beginning. To me, it was a monument to a ghost.
The blue is fine, I managed to say, my voice sounding like it belonged to someone else.
Silas stepped toward me, his hand finding the small of my back. He leaned down, his breath warm against my ear, though his words were ice. Pick the most expensive options, he whispered. The Rossis are coming for dinner on Friday. I want them to hear about the gold-threaded rugs and the custom Italian linens. I want them to feel the weight of what they've lost.
Friday? I turned my head, my nose nearly brushing his cheek. You didn't say anything about dinner.
I'm saying it now. Silas straightened, his expression turning neutral for Ella's benefit. Julianna's father is still a partner in my firm. I need him to see how well I've replaced his daughter. I need him to see the heir he thought would never happen.
Ella began showing me swatches fabrics that cost more than my father had earned in a year. I touched them with numb fingers. Velvet the color of midnight. Silk that felt like water. Every choice felt like a nail in a box.
Silas watched me with a terrifying intensity. He wasn't looking at the swatches; he was looking at my performance. He was checking for cracks.
Halfway through the session, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a text from the hospital. Leo's vitals are stabilizing. The new medication is working. Thank you.
A sob threatened to break through my throat. I masked it with a cough, turning away from Ella's curious gaze. I felt Silas's hand tighten on my shoulder. He knew. He knew that every bit of my cooperation was bought with my brother's life, and he relished the leverage.
I think the silver leaf for the ceiling is perfect, I said, looking directly at Silas, my eyes hard. Let's make it look like the whole world is within his reach.
Silas's eyes flickered with something amusement, or perhaps a grim sort of respect. Excellent choice, he murmured.
Once Ella was ushered out by Mrs. Gable, the silence returned, heavier than before. Silas set his coffee cup down on a sawhorse. You're learning, he said, his voice dropping the facade of the doting husband. You looked almost convincing when you mentioned the silver leaf.
I'm doing what I promised, I said, stepping out from under his hand. But dinner with the Rossis? Silas, Julianna was suspicious at the gala. If she sees me up close, in the light...
Then you will simply have to be more luminous, he interrupted. He walked toward me, his presence filling the empty room until I felt trapped against the wall. You will wear the Rossi diamonds. You will talk about the morning sickness you don't have. And when Julianna looks at you, you will make her feel like a footnote in the story of my life.
Why do you hate her so much? I whispered. If you're over her, why go through all this?
Silas stopped, his face inches from mine. For a second, the mask slipped, and I saw a raw, jagged wound behind his gray eyes. It wasn't just heartbreak; it was a total, systematic betrayal that had nearly cost him his empire.
She didn't just leave me at the altar, he said, his voice a low, dangerous growl. She tried to take the company with her. She fed information to my competitors for months. She wanted to see me in the dirt.
He reached out, his fingers tangling in my hair, pulling my head back just enough to force me to look at him. This isn't about love, little ghost. This is about balance. She tried to destroy my legacy. So, I will create a new one, right in front of her eyes. Even if that legacy is built on a lie.
He let go of me abruptly. Get some rest. I've ordered a private chef to prepare a specific diet for you starting today. If the staff sees you eating like a pregnant woman, the world will believe you are one.
He began to walk away, but I called out to him. You can buy the furniture, Silas. You can buy the doctors and the press. But what happens when the nine months are up? You can't buy a human being out of thin air.
Silas paused at the doorway, the light from the hallway silhouetting his broad shoulders. He didn't turn around.
In this city, you can buy anything if you're willing to pay the price, he said. Focus on the dinner, Let me worry about the birth.
The door clicked shut, leaving me alone in the blue-and-silver room. I walked to the center of the floor and sat down on the cold walnut boards. I placed my hand on my stomach, feeling the emptiness there like a physical ache. I was a bird in a cage made of blueprints and silk, and the man holding the key was more dangerous than the wolves waiting outside the door.
I looked up at the ceiling, imagining the constellations Ella would paint there. I wondered if the stars would look as lonely as I felt. I was playing a game of shadows, and for the first time, I realized that Silas Vane wasn't just fighting the Rossis. He was fighting himself, and he was using me as the battlefield.
I closed my eyes and whispered my brother's name, the only truth left in a world of beautiful, expensive lies. Friday was coming, and I had to prepare for the performance of a lifetime. I had to become a mother to a shadow, or I would lose the only person I had left to love.