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The best part? I could invite them over to my house.My house.Not my mom’s cramped apartment that always smelled like cigarettes and cheap air freshener, or the foster homes that never allowed it anyway. My uncle’s house was a palace, and for the first time in my life, I wasn’t ashamed of where I lived.

The first time I invited a group over, I thought I might throw up from the nerves. They piled out of their cars, giggling and chattering as they walked up the driveway, their eyes widening as they took in the mansion. The house looked even more extravagant from their perspective, and I saw it through fresh eyes—the sprawling gardens, the shimmering pool in the back. It wasn’t just a house; it was a statement.

“Sloane, this is your house?” Claire asked, her voice dripping with awe.

I smiled, trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal, even though I was literally beaming inside with pride. “Yep. Home sweet home.”

Home. The word still tasted strange on my tongue, but it felt good to say.

We spent the afternoon lounging by the pool, sipping Diet Coke from crystal glasses my uncle’s staff brought out on silver trays. The girls gushed over how amazing everything was, complimenting every detail of the house. I couldn’t stop smiling, basking in the feeling of being… normal. For the first time, I wasn’t the girl hiding where she lived, making excuses for why no one could ever come over. I was part of something, part of a group that wanted me there.

By the time they left, hugging me goodbye and promising to do it again soon, I felt lighter than I had in years. I closed the door behind them, leaning against it and letting out a deep breath before I slowly sank to the floor.

* * *

A few blissful months later I was walking to the kitchen when the faint hum of music and muffled conversation floated up the grand staircase. I made my way down, curiosity tugging at me with each step. My uncle had a few meetings since I’d been here, but this sounded different. Bigger. The sounds were too lively, too vibrant, too full of something electric to be the kind of dry business meeting I’d seen him host.

At the base of the stairs, I hesitated, clutching the banister as the low rumble of voices and the clink of glasses grew louder. The source of the commotion was obvious—the ballroom doors were cracked open, a warm golden light spilling into the dim hallway. The flicker of chandeliers and the faint scent of expensive perfume filled the air, and I had to see more.

I crept closer, careful to keep my steps light, and peered through the opening. My breath caught in my throat.

The room was filled with men in perfectly tailored suits, the kind of suits that screamed old money and whispered power. They moved in clusters, their conversations animated, their laughter polished and practiced. Each of them held a drink in hand, swirling amber liquid in crystal glasses as if it were part of the performance. Their faces carried that air of effortless confidence that came with knowing you owned the world—or at least enough of it to not care about the rest.

But it wasn’t the men who stole my attention.

Scattered among them were women, draped in gowns that shimmered under the light of the chandeliers. They were glamorous in a way I’d only seen in magazines, their hair perfectly styled, their makeup flawless. Diamonds glittered at their throats, their ears, their wrists, catching the light every time they moved. They looked like they’d stepped out of a dream, impossibly elegant and stunning, and the men, the much older men…they were enthralled. Hanging on their every word, leaning in too close, their eyes greedy and admiring all at once.

One of the women laughed, a soft, musical sound that drew the attention of everyone around her. She tilted her head, her fingers lightly brushing the arm of a man who looked like he belonged on the cover ofForbes. He leaned closer, captivated, his gaze never leaving her face. Her smile widened, the diamonds at her throat catching the light like tiny fireworks.

They looked like they were having the time of their lives.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The scene was intoxicating—sparkling, seductive, and dripping with wealth. The gowns, the jewels, the effortless grace of the women as they charmed the room…it was mesmerizing. They were the kind of beautiful that didn’t feel real, the kind that made you question if you were looking at actual people or some kind of fantasy brought to life.

My hand tightened on the edge of the doorframe, my pulse quickening. It wasn’t just their beauty or their gowns or the way they commanded attention. It was the way they seemed tobelong. They moved through the room like they owned it, like they belonged among the men and the money and the power.

And for a moment, just a moment, I wondered what it would feel like to be one of them. To wear the diamonds, to command the room, to be admired instead of ignored. To have that kind of power.

“They’re breathtaking, aren’t they?” Everett’s voice floated behind me, making me jump.

“Oh, hi. I’m sorry. I heard something on my way to get a snack,” I told him, worried he’d be mad at me for being nosy.

He grinned at me, his smile making him look younger…more carefree.

“Nonsense. This is your house. And I’ll keep telling you it’s your house until you believe it.”

I smiled shyly, my gaze flicking back into the ballroom.

“Who are they?” I asked.

He studied me for a moment, his gaze unreadable as he brought his highball to his lips and took a long drink. “They’re masters of their own fate,” he said, his tone smooth, practiced. “Businesswomen, if you will. Women who know how to control a room, how to navigate power and wealth with ease.”

I frowned slightly, his answer only raising more questions. “What kind of business?” I asked.

His smile widened, but there was something cold in it. “The kind that requires charm, intelligence, and a certain…finesse.”

That didn’t clear anything up. If anything, it only made me more confused.

“Those women command attention. They know what they want, and they know how to get it. It’s a skill few possess, but those who do…they thrive.”