Chapter 16

Camille’s POV

By four o’clock, my brain felt like mush. French words swirled together. My hands shook from too much coffee.

Mrs. Harrington noticed right away. “A lady never shows she’s tired,” she snapped, pushing my shoulders back. “Chin up. Now, let’s practice dinner talk.”

Two more hours of fake smiles. Pretending to care about boring conversations. Learning how to change the subject without being rude. All because Victoria said I needed these skills for fancy parties.

When James drove me home at six, I had forty-five minutes to get ready for dinner with the board members. My head pounded. Black spots danced in my vision. The thought of sitting with twelve scary businessmen made me want to hide under my bed.

But I couldn’t hide. I never could anymore.

I put on the black Dior dress they’d picked out for me. It cost more than most people made in a month. The stylist left notes about which jewelry to wear, how to fix my hair.

Looking