CHAPTER 2 – BEFORE THE RED DRESS
Three months earlier, Sophia still believed Vanessa Crane was simply difficult.
Not dangerous.
Vanessa had been part of Ethan’s world long before Sophia entered it: a family friend, former business partner, occasional guest at old-money dinners where people never said what they meant until it had already cost someone something. She was beautiful, sharp, and always dressed as if every room were a competition she intended to win.
When Ethan introduced Sophia as his wife, Vanessa smiled.
The smile did not reach her eyes.
“She’s lovely,” Vanessa said, as though Sophia were a painting that might not fit the room.
Sophia tried not to dislike her.
She had married Ethan for love, not for the ocean-view penthouse or the black-tie events or the reputation attached to the Reynolds name. Ethan was calm where other men were loud, disciplined where others were showy. He made her feel protected without making her feel owned. When they learned she was pregnant, he cried in the kitchen at two in the morning and pretended it was because onions were on the counter.
Vanessa saw all of that.
And hated it.
She had known Ethan since college. She had helped build the early version of his investment firm. She had waited through his reckless twenties, his workaholic early thirties, and the death of his father. Somewhere along the way, waiting turned into entitlement. She believed she had earned a future with him because she had remained available long enough.
Then Sophia arrived.
Soft-spoken but not weak. Kind but not naive. Pregnant with the child Vanessa had once imagined would secure her own place beside Ethan.
At first, Vanessa’s cruelty came dressed as jokes.
“Pregnancy makes women sentimental.”
“Careful, Sophia, Ethan hates needy people.”
“That dress is brave for someone so far along.”
Sophia ignored it.
Ethan noticed sometimes and squeezed her hand under the table, but Sophia told him not to make it a thing.
That was her first mistake.
Predators love people who are determined to be gracious.
Then came the gala invitation. Vanessa insisted she wanted to host a small pre-event toast in Ethan and Sophia’s penthouse while Ethan finished a board call downstairs. Claire Monroe, Sophia’s friend and Ethan’s legal adviser, was also on the guest list but running late.
Vanessa arrived early in a dark-red dress, carrying champagne and fury carefully hidden under perfume.
Within ten minutes, the conversation became accusation.
“You think you won,” Vanessa said.
Sophia stared at her. “Won what?”
Vanessa’s eyes dropped to her belly.
“Everything that was supposed to be mine.”
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That was when Sophia realized this was not jealousy.
It was obsession.
