Before I could think of a careful response to my father, Chloe herself walked confidently toward the cabana.

She was the perfect golden child—blonde, beautiful, ruthless, and and unaware of any world that did not revolve around her. She was surrounded by her loyal little circle, a giggling group of wealthy teenagers holding crystal glasses of brightly colored mocktails.

Chloe’s icy blue eyes locked onto mine. They held no warmth at all. Instead, they shone with deliberate cruelty as she noticed how desperately I was trying to disappear in the shadows.

She leaned into the ear of her closest confidante, whispering a quiet remark that caused the entire group to erupt into high, cutting laughter. Her gaze flicked deliberately back to the heavy, suffocating wool collar encasing my neck.

A cold knot tightened in my stomach, despite the brutal heat. My strategy of making myself invisible had kept me relatively safe for a decade and a half.

But as Chloe suddenly turned, marching with quick, determined steps toward the elevated wooden platform at the center of the patio and raising her perfectly manicured hands to demand the crowd’s attention, fear flooded through me.

She’s going to do it, a voice screamed in my mind. The defensive walls I had spent my entire life building were about to be torn apart in public.

Even before Chloe spoke, I could feel the mood around the pool changing. Conversations faded one by one, and several guests turned in my direction with the eager curiosity people reserve for a spectacle. No one asked whether I wanted to be part of whatever she had planned.