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Prologue
BROOKE
Four Years Before The Apocalypse
There is nothing more important than perfection.
It’s been drilled into me since birth.
First by my father; then by my evil stepmother.
Emphasis on the evil, because she has poison pumping through her veins.
She’s perfect for my father, because not only does he enjoy pretty things, but he respects ambition.
And Celeste is not just beautiful, her skills as a social climber are legendary.
“You’re lucky you were born with a rich daddy,” she says, her voice edged with anger. “The Fitzpatrick line is well respected and gives you a boon others don’t have.” She leans towards me, nostrils flaring. “I had to work for every little crumb.”
I don’t refute her because I know she works hard.
On her knees.
But what she fails to see is that I do too.
From the moment I could walk, I’ve been on my toes, dancing. I’m to be soft, but not too soft. Dainty. Feminine. Meek.
And utterly ruthless.
I’m uniquely positioned to be the queen of my social tribe, dominating the cruel ranks of the high-end private school my rich daddy sends me to.
But I was born without one very important trait: ambition.
I don’t want any of this. Sure, I’m thankful to never miss a meal. Scratch that, I miss several. Because heaven forbid my pants size goes above size two.
I’m exhausted.
I don’t want to be perfect.
I want to live in the shadows.
Away from everyone.
My stepmother is obsessed with me, and I’m not just saying that. She wants to be me. She even got cheekbone implants to look more like me, and over the last decade, her nose has begun to eerily resemble mine.
Honestly, I wish someone could take my place. My life may be beautiful, but it’s ever full of thorns.
Richard, the butler, appears by my stepmother’s side and whispers something into her ear.
And for the first time since I’ve known her, she looks stricken. Utterly terrified.
She nods, her face pale with panic, but as soon as she sees me looking at her, she regains her composure.
She clears her throat. “Send him into the parlor.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her eyes narrow on me like I’m prey. “You’re to go to your room. Not a word from you. Not until you’re sent for. Do you understand?”
