Chloe’s POV (New York City)
The morning sun was barely hitting the pavement of Manhattan, but I was already sitting cross-legged on my bed, the glowing screen of my phone illuminating the dark room. My eyes were furiously scanning the headlines of The Manhattan Ledger and three different high-society blogs, my jaw clenching tighter with every word I read.
The photos from the French Riviera luncheon were everywhere. There were multiple angles of Victoria Davenport looking tearful, fragile, and utterly victimized in her pastel pink suit, while Ruby stood over her looking like an icy, untouched queen in cream linen. The headlines were brutal, painting my sister out to be some psycho, pathologically jealous new wife who had publicly assaulted Alex's high-society ex-girlfriend.
A strange
