Vanessa’s POV

Morning sunlight spilled through the penthouse windows, painting gold across the marble floor and the pale silk sheets wrapped around Vanessa’s legs. For anyone else it might have looked like serenity. To her, it was a cage wrapped in luxury.

She shifted against the pillows, scrolling absently through her phone. Every headline was the same: glowing photos of her from the gala, whispers of Damian Blackwood’s devotion, endless commentary about her “grace under pressure.” ...