The garden looked like a dream no one ever dared imagine for a girl like her.
Golden drapes billowed under the warm breeze. Chandeliers hung from trees. A string quartet played near the glowing fountain, and laughter curled through the air like perfume. It wasn't just an anniversary — it was a performance. Every ribbon, every polished fork, every flower imported across oceans — all of it screamed wealth. Power. Control.
She stood beneath a floral arch, body wrapped in silk that clung too tight at the waist. Her makeup covered the faint shadow of a bruise on her jaw, her wrists hidden beneath embroidered sleeves. Cameras flashed. People clapped. Wine was poured into glasses thinner than breath.
"Serene!"
She turned. Her sister, dressed in blue, ran up and threw her arms around her. "God, you're so lucky," she whispered with teary eyes. "I still can't believe it."
Serene smiled. It felt like slicing glass across her lips.
Their father wasn't far, holding a glass of champagne with trembling pride. He hadn't worn a suit since Serene's graduation — and even then, it hadn't looked like this. This one was custom. Tailored. Expensive. Like everything else in the Ashborne world.
"Your husband is a man of taste," he said, pulling Serene in for a side hug, careful not to smudge her makeup. "He's the kind of man who commands a room."
He also locked her in one.
Her mother's laughter drifted across the grass. "And such a well-mannered little girl!" she said, watching Lelo twirl in her crimson dress. "I never thought I'd see the day Serene became a mother figure."
"She's like a real ballerina," one of her cousins added, snapping photos of the little girl. "So elegant."
Serene looked at Lelo — smiling, spinning, dancing beside Serene's youngest brother like she had known him forever. They were pretending. All of them. And Lelo was the best at it.
"Mother," Lelo called sweetly, running to hug her leg, wrapping her arms around it like a child too shy to be alone.
The word hit Serene like a quiet scream. She froze. The world stopped spinning.
But everyone around her just smiled.
They thought it was cute.
Serene dropped her hand onto the girl's head like an afterthought and gently peeled her away. Lelo clung tighter for a second — a second too long — then let go with a sweet giggle and returned to her twirls.
From the edge of the garden, Roman Ashborne stood tall and silent, sipping from a black glass, his eyes never leaving Serene. He was dressed in black on black, no tie, shirt open just enough to suggest power without arrogance. People swarmed him — shaking hands, taking photos, praising his "perfect family" with words like "fairytale," "miracle," and "the luckiest girl in the world."
None of them knew the truth. And if they did, none would care.
"She's so calm now," someone whispered behind Serene. "You know, at first, I thought she looked kind of… wild. But he's done her well. Tamed her."
"She's glowing."
"She's smart not to mess it up."
Serene walked slowly through the garden, her face painted in a soft expression that fooled even herself. She said thank you. She said it's an honor. She smiled when someone mentioned her skin "shining like cocoa under moonlight." She even laughed when someone asked how she and Roman met.
They were laughing.
All of them.
Her family. Her friends. Her past.
None of them saw the fear in her shoulders. None saw the restraint in her steps. None saw the message her eyes tried to scream every time they caught someone's gaze: I'm not safe. I am not free.
But they didn't hear her.
Because she didn't speak.
She couldn't.
"You've changed," her older sister whispered when they were briefly alone in front of the cake. "You used to cry when things were wrong. Now you're… different."
"I'm happy," Serene said. It was a lie she'd worn so often it slipped like silk off her tongue.
Her sister nodded, pleased. "I knew he was the one. You don't get this kind of life otherwise."
Life?
Serene turned and looked at the massive table decorated with gold napkin rings and roses. At the servants bowing with trays, the blinking cameras, the grinning faces.
This wasn't life. This was survival.
And Serene wasn't living. She was performing.
Roman walked past her once. Just once. His hand brushed her back for less than a second — but her whole body went cold.
She wanted to run. She wanted to cry. She wanted to grab her sister's wrist and scream please don't leave me here.
But instead, she adjusted her earring and excused herself to the ladies' room with a perfect smile.
Even there — in the mirror surrounded by diamond lights and gold-trimmed soap — she didn't recognize herself. She didn't look broken. She looked beautiful.
And that terrified her most.
She was disappearing inside the cage. Bit by bit. Word by word.
By the time she returned to the table, the lights had dimmed and speeches began. Roman stood beside her, one arm wrapped lightly around her waist.
"Let's show them what a perfect wife looks like," he whispered into her ear.
And then, louder, "To my angel. My wife. The mother of my daughter. The light in our lives."
People clapped. Champagne was raised.
The fireworks began.
Lelo clapped her hands in excitement beside her. Her father wiped tears. Her sister took videos. And Roman smiled.
But Serene…
Serene looked up at the sky and saw nothing but bars. Glittering, golden bars.
The cage was dressed in diamonds.
But it was still a cage.
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