After I gave birth to our triplets, my husband walked into my hospital room with his mistress — who was proudly carrying a Birkin bag. –

I screamed and dove over Samuel’s bassinet.

Celeste grabbed the real drive chain at my neck.

I grabbed her wrist.

For one second, we stared at each other inches apart.

Two daughters of broken families.

Two women carrying their mothers’ ghosts.

Then she whispered, “What did Margot say?”

I looked into her eyes.

“She said you deserved the truth more than revenge.”

Celeste froze.

Behind her, Calloway shouted, “Celine! Kill her!”

And that was his mistake.

Celeste turned slowly.

The last illusion died in her face.

PART 7 — WHEN THE MISTRESS CHOSE BLOOD

Celeste stared at Calloway as if seeing him for the first time.

Not the powerful patron.

Not the man who had fed her story after story about her mother’s downfall.

Just an old serpent who had survived too many winters by wearing other people’s skins.

“You said my mother abandoned me,” Celeste whispered.

Calloway pushed Adrian off him and rose, blood at his temple. “She did.”