Celeste's POV
The dress costs more than most people earn in a month.
I stare at myself in the mirror, smoothing down the champagne silk that clings to my body. It's beautiful. Perfect, actually. Just like everything else Damien picks out for me.
My phone buzzes on the dresser. A text from my brother: You look stunning. The car leaves in ten minutes.
I freeze, my hand halfway to my lipstick. How does he know what I look like right now? I'm in my bedroom with the door closed.
My eyes dart to the corners of the ceiling, searching. Nothing visible. But that doesn't mean anything. Damien has cameras everywhere in this penthouse. For security, he always says. To keep me safe.
I grab my clutch and hurry out before I can think too hard about it. Thinking leads to questions. Questions lead to fights. And I hate fighting with Damien.
He's waiting at the bottom of the curved staircase, looking like he stepped out of a magazine. Dark suit. Perfect hair. Ice-blue eyes that track my every movement as I descend.
Beautiful, he says, offering his arm. His hand settles at the small of my back, warm and possessive. Ready?
Nervous, I admit with a small laugh. You know I hate these big parties.
You'll be fine. I'll be right beside you. His fingers press slightly harder against my spine. Always.
The word should comfort me. Instead, something cold slithers down my back.
The ballroom is packed with New York's richest and most powerful people. Crystal chandeliers throw sparkles across designer gowns and expensive suits. Waiters glide through the crowd with champagne trays.
I stay close to Damien as he works the room. He introduces me to board members, investors, business partners. I smile and shake hands and say the right things. It's a performance I've perfected over the years.
And this is my sister, Celeste, Damien says to a silver-haired man in a navy suit. She heads our strategic planning division.
The man's eyebrows rise. Strategic planning? That's impressive for someone so young.
Before I can respond, Damien answers for me. She graduated top of her class from Columbia. Brilliant mind for business.
Pride warms his voice, but his hand never leaves my back. Steering. Guiding. Controlling.
A younger man approaches us—tall, handsome, with kind brown eyes. Excuse me, Mr. Ashford. I'm Robert Chen from the investment team. I was hoping to ask Ms. Ashford about the Asia expansion project
Celeste doesn't discuss business at social events, Damien cuts him off smoothly. If you want details about the expansion, schedule a meeting with my office.
He pulls me away before Robert can say another word.
That was rude, I whisper.
He wasn't asking about business. Damien's jaw tightens. He was making excuses to talk to you.
So what if he was? I can have a conversation
Not with him. His fingers dig into my waist. Trust me on this, Celeste. I know what men like that want.
The cold feeling returns, stronger this time.
I escape to the bathroom twenty minutes later, needing a break from the crowd and from Damien's constant presence.
A woman in a red dress stands at the mirror, reapplying lipstick. She's beautiful in a sharp, dangerous way. When she sees me, her mouth curves into a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.
Celeste Ashford, she says. I was wondering if you'd be here.
I recognize her now. Victoria Sterling. Damien's ex-fiancée from three years ago.
Victoria. It's been a while.
Has it? I've been keeping track of you. She caps her lipstick and turns to face me fully. Still living with your brother, I see.
He raised me after our parents died. We're close.
Close. She laughs, but it sounds bitter. Is that what you call it?
My stomach twists. What's that supposed to mean?
Victoria steps closer, her perfume overwhelming in the small space. Tell me something, Celeste. Has your dear brother ever let you date anyone? Have a boyfriend? Move out on your own?
He's protective. After what happened to our parents
That was sixteen years ago, sweetheart. Her eyes glitter with something dark. At some point, protection becomes possession.
The words hit me like a slap.
You don't know what you're talking about, I say, but my voice wavers.
Don't I? She leans against the counter, studying me. I was engaged to Damien for eight months. Want to know why we broke up?
I don't answer, but she continues anyway.
I caught him staring at you during our engagement party. The way he looked at you... She shakes her head. That wasn't a brother looking at his sister. When I confronted him about it, he ended our engagement on the spot. Said nothing would ever come before you.
My heart pounds so hard I can hear it in my ears.
You're lying.
Am I? Victoria picks up her clutch. Keep telling yourself that, Celeste. But deep down, you know something's wrong. You've always known.
She brushes past me, leaving me alone with my reflection and her poisonous words.
I return to the ballroom in a daze. Victoria's wrong. She has to be wrong. Damien is my brother. He loves me. He's protected me my entire life.
But my mind keeps circling back to small things I've ignored before.
The way he never lets me go anywhere alone.
How my college friends stopped calling after graduation.
The job he created for me at his company, conveniently located right next to his office.
The cameras. The tracking app on my phone he insisted I download for safety.
There you are. Damien appears at my elbow, his hand immediately finding my waist again. I was starting to worry.
I'm fine. Just needed a minute.
His eyes scan my face. You look upset. What happened?
Nothing. I just
Did someone say something to you? His voice drops dangerously low. Tell me who.
The intensity in his gaze makes my breath catch. This is my brother. The man who raised me. Why does he suddenly feel like a stranger?
Nobody said anything, I lie. I'm just tired.
He doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't push. Instead, he pulls me closer, his arm wrapping around my shoulders in what anyone else would see as a protective embrace.
But now, after Victoria's words, it feels different.
It feels like a cage.
Let's get you home, he murmurs against my hair. You need rest.
As we walk toward the exit, I catch Robert Chen watching us from across the room. He looks like he wants to approach, but something in Damien's expression stops him cold.
And suddenly, I remember something.
Last year, there was a guy from my gym who asked for my number. The next week, he transferred to a different location.
A college friend who suggested we get coffee. He stopped returning my calls after Damien met him once.
A pattern I never noticed before because I trusted my brother completely.
We step into the elevator. The doors close, trapping us in the small space.
Damien's phone buzzes. He checks it and frowns.
Robert Chen just requested a meeting with you for tomorrow morning, he says quietly. I'm canceling it.
Why? It's about the Asia project
No, Celeste. His voice is steel wrapped in silk. It's not.
The elevator descends. My ears pop from the pressure.
Or maybe it's from the weight of all the questions I've been too afraid to ask.
When we reach the ground floor, Damien's hand finds mine. His grip is gentle but unbreakable.
I'll always protect you, he says. No matter what.
And for the first time in my life, those words don't sound like a promise.
They sound like a threat.