Murray had sent people to dig into the situation. Their conclusion: Ivan Stephens's late wife had only just died.

They decided I was nothing more than a stand-in. A plaything.

"She's a dirty little secret. There's no way Stephens would start a war over her!" Murray was utterly convinced.

The Hensons hatched a plan immediately.

Lavinia's birthday gala was the following week. They sent a gilded invitation specifically requesting that Mr. Stephens bring his female companion.

The scheme was simple: expose me in front of everyone, then force me onto the operating table.

"Going?" Ivan flicked the gold-embossed invitation onto the table.

"Going." I plucked a cherry from the bowl and popped it into my mouth. "They've built the stage. Might as well give them a show."

Ivan smiled and ruffled my hair.

"Good. I'll be right there when you tear it down."

The night of the gala.

The Hensons had booked the grandest ballroom in Crestmont's most exclusive hotel.

Lavinia wore a custom gown worth a fortune, a diamond tiara perched on her head.

Ivan and I walked in. The entire room went silent.

I wore a deep burgundy couture evening gown, my hair swept up. A black silk scarf was loosely knotted around my neck.

Ivan's arm tightened around my waist as we made our way to the head table.

Murray's eyes glazed over. He grabbed a glass of wine and approached, his voice low and venomous through gritted teeth.

"You actually showed up."

"Designer clothes don't turn a crow into a phoenix. Stephens is just having his fun with you."

"You're going to the hospital today. Otherwise I'll rip that mask right off your face."

I scoffed. One flick of my wrist.

A full glass of red wine splashed across his face.

"Sober yet?"

"Ah!" Murray sputtered, frantically wiping his eyes.

Josephine saw it happen. She snatched a microphone and charged onto the stage.

She squeezed out two tears and wailed for the crowd.

"Somebody tell me if this is fair!"

"The Henson family raised her for twenty years! Lavinia is on death's door and needs a kidney transplant. And this ungrateful wretch refuses to save her own sister. Runs off to be some rich man's mistress instead!"

"She came here tonight just to torment us!"

The room erupted. Every pair of eyes swiveled toward me.

Whispers rippled through the crowd.

"So she's the Henson girl."

"Absolutely shameless."

"What does Stephens see in someone like that?"