Chapter 1

I was the useless child of the Vance family.

While my older sister, Aurora, closed a multi-billion-dollar semiconductor acquisition in Europe, I was tucked away in the attic greenhouse, messing around with herbs and petals nobody cared about.

At our father's birthday gala, Aurora—the undisputed heir to the empire—stood on his arm, basking in the roaring applause of Manhattan’s elite.

I stood in the corner shadows. Most guests didn't even know my name.

A man held up his champagne glass to me, his smile polite but aloof. "And who might you be, miss?"

Before I could speak, Mrs. Kensington chimed in with a patronizing chuckle.

"A distant cousin of Charles Vance, I assume. Probably brought along to see how the other half lives."

Her voice was just loud enough for me to hear every syllable.

For twenty years, I had been the silent joke of the Vance family.

My mother, an East Coast socialite from old money, married my father, Wall Street titan Charles Vance.

A power alliance. Out of that union came my sister, Aurora.

Grandpa had named her Aurora in hopes that she would be the dawn of a glorious dynasty.

She never disappointed.

Enrolled at Wharton at fifteen, she returned to the family firm at twenty-two, netting a nine-figure profit on her very first venture.

She was the golden child. The flawless heir.

So when my mother unexpectedly got pregnant with me, everyone assumed lightning would strike twice.

"With Aurora so brilliant, the second child will surely be a prodigy."

I let every single one of them down.

I didn't have Aurora's photographic memory, nor her ruthless business instincts.

I hated numbers. Galas gave me hives. I despised the two-faced socializing that defined our world.

My name was Eve.

Aurora and Eve.

The dawn, and the dusk.

Even our names felt like a cruel, calculated joke.

One rose with the morning sun; the other faded quietly into the dark.

My parents considered themselves enlightened. They swore they never played favorites.

Actions spoke louder than words.

Whenever our family went out, my father’s right hand was reserved for my mother, and his left held Aurora’s.

I trailed behind them like an invisible shadow.

At Aurora’s twenty-fifth birthday bash—the night she was officially crowned the sole successor of the Vance Group—my father drank too much.

Arm around an old friend, he pointed toward Aurora standing beneath the chandeliers, his chest swelling with pride.

"That's my daughter. The single greatest masterpiece of my life."

The friend flattered him. "You're a lucky man, Charles. But don't you have a younger daughter as well?"

The smile on my father's face faded. He waved a dismissive hand, a flicker of regret and annoyance crossing his features.

"Don't bring that up. If only we had stopped after Aurora."

"Unfortunately... we had Eve."

The room went dead silent.

Standing in the crowd, I felt as if someone had stripped me bare and thrown me into a blizzard.

Later that night, the alcohol must have worn off. Realizing he had crossed a line, my father called me into his mahogany-paneled study.

"Eve, don't take it to heart. I had too much to drink."

He pushed a black Amex card across the desk. No limit.

"What I meant was, Aurora can handle the world on her own now. I’m proud of her."

"But you... you still require our care. It’s a heavy burden on my shoulders."

Even billionaire apologies sounded like handouts from above.

I lowered my gaze and picked up the cold plastic. "I understand, Charles."

It wasn't an accident. He had simply spoken the truth he’d bottled up for twenty years.

The year I turned eighteen, Aurora brought her fiancé, Julian Sterling, home for dinner.

The Sterlings were real American aristocracy, and Julian was the golden boy of his generation.

His union with Aurora was hailed by the press as a match made in heaven.

That afternoon, suffering from a severe pollen allergy, I had shut myself in my room, asking the housekeeper to excuse me from dinner.

So when Aurora gave Julian a tour of the penthouse and pushed open my door, everyone froze.

Aurora’s brow furrowed in irritation. "Eve? Why are you still in the house?"

Clearly, no one had bothered to tell me someone so important was coming.

And no one had remembered that I lived under this roof too.