Two years later. Elmont, Veyra Republic.
The first snow of the year drifted softly and slowly onto the banks of the Seine.
Crowds packed the sidewalk outside the Grand Palace. A solo exhibition named Embers had taken the entire art world by storm.
Dead center in the main exhibition hall, hundreds of cameras were trained on Vane, the mysterious Eastern female painter everyone was buzzing about.
That day, she wore a flowing red dress, bold, unapologetic, impossible to ignore.
She turned to face the blinding blaze of the media's flashbulbs, and a confident smile curled at the corner of her lips.
That woman was me. Ivy.
Two years earlier, Ethan had backed me into a corner, and all I wanted to do was run.
After I lost my baby, I reached out to Simon, the personal bodyguard my father had
