Chapter 1
The private indoor carousel pavilion on the Caruso estate was saturated in brilliant, cinematic daylight. It was a space designed for flawless celebration, flooded with crisp, natural light that cascaded from the vaulted skylights, carrying absolutely no dull yellow tint. The bright colors of the stationary carousel—vivid crimson, polished gold, and immaculate white—gleamed with expensive perfection. Everything was pristine, curated for the third birthday of Bennett Caruso. Around the pavilion, fair-skinned guests with rosy complexions milled about, their sharp American accents creating a polite, low hum of conversation.
But the perfection was an illusion, shattered by the cruelty unfolding near the padded bench beside the gift table.
Sixty-one-year-old Opal Drake, dressed in a formal, expensive dress and heavy pearl jewelry, had her manicured hands firmly clamped onto three-year-old Bennett’s small shoulders. She pinned the boy against the padded bench, her fair face twisted into a mask of aristocratic disdain. Bennett, dressed in his festive party shirt and trousers, looked up with wide, terrified blue eyes.
"Hold still," Opal commanded, her American accent crisp and venomous.
Beside her, thirty-two-year-old Keira Drake, wearing an elegant dress and high heels, leaned forward. Without a shred of hesitation, Keira violently tore the colorful paper birthday crown right off Bennett’s head. She crushed the paper in her fist, ruining the delicate folds, and carelessly dropped a large, empty gift box directly over the little boy’s head, plunging him into darkness.
Bennett let out a muffled cry of panic. His small hands immediately flew upward, desperately trying to pull the cardboard box off his head. But Keira clamped her hands down on top of the box, holding it firmly in place.
"Bought children belong in boxes," Keira sneered, her voice mocking and loud enough to be heard over the polite chatter of the room. She laughed, a harsh, grating sound that betrayed the deep-seated jealousy she harbored for the Caruso wealth.
Before Keira could revel in her cruelty for another second, the heavy, imposing presence of Selene Caruso descended upon them.
At twenty-nine years old, Selene was the Head of the Caruso family. She possessed a stunning, fair beauty, but she radiated an aura that was powerful, deeply calculating, and terrifyingly intimidating, reminiscent of a veteran Mafia boss. Dressed in a flawlessly tailored pantsuit, a crisp blouse, and polished leather shoes, she moved with the lethal, silent grace of an apex predator. The heavy gold family signet ring on her finger caught the brilliant light as she reached out.
With blinding speed, Selene tore the cardboard box from Bennett’s head, tossing it carelessly aside. In the same fluid motion, she forcefully knocked Opal’s heavily ringed hands completely away from her son’s shoulders. The older woman stumbled backward, gasping in shock as Selene’s dark, commanding eyes pinned her in place.
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"Mommy..." Bennett whimpered, tears spilling down his rosy cheeks as he clung to Selene’s blouse. She lifted him effortlessly from the bench, wrapping her arms protectively around his small, trembling frame. The crushed paper crown lay discarded on the polished floor.
Bennett buried his face into her neck, his tiny voice breaking the heavy silence that had suddenly fallen over the pavilion. "Mommy… did you buy me?"
