Serena sat in her car in the parking lot of the toy store. A large box of Legos sat in the passenger seat. It was the Death Star set Leo had been begging for.
She didn't start the engine. Instead, she unlocked her phone and downloaded Instagram. She had avoided social media for years, part of the privacy clause in her contract, but also for her own sanity.
She typed Victoria Chase into the search bar.
The profile loaded instantly. Millions of followers. A grid of perfectly curated moments. Victoria on red carpets. Victoria at brunch. Victoria holding a puppy.
Serena scrolled. She wasn't looking for the recent photos. She was looking for the past.
She noticed a new album titled "Memories Unlocked." It had been posted just two hours ago.
She stopped at a photo dated twenty-four months ago. It was a selfie of Victoria on a balcony in Paris. The Eiffel Tower was in the background, glittering in the night. Victoria was holding a glass of wine, smiling coyly at someone off-camera.
Serena zoomed in on the glass door behind Victoria. In the reflection, there was a man. He was blurry, but the silhouette was unmistakable. Broad shoulders. The way he held his phone.
It was Julian.
Serena checked the date again. Two years ago. That week, Julian had told her he was in Paris for a merger with a French luxury brand. He had called her every night, his voice tired, complaining about the endless meetings. He had claimed the negotiations ran until 3 AM every night.
He had been with her. Victoria had deliberately unarchived these photos today. It was a victory lap.
Serena felt a cold sweat break out on her neck. She kept scrolling.
Aspen. Last January. Victoria in a white ski suit, wearing mirrored goggles.
Serena zoomed in on the goggles. The reflection showed a man in a black ski jacket. Julian had a black Moncler jacket just like that.
That was Serena's birthday. Julian had texted her saying a blizzard had grounded his flight in Chicago. He hadn't been in Chicago. He had been on the slopes with Victoria.
The timeline wasn't just an overlap. It was a complete parallel life. He hadn't met Victoria recently. He had been with her the entire time.
Serena felt like she couldn't get enough oxygen. The betrayal wasn't just physical. It was systemic. Her entire marriage, her entire sacrifice, had been a lie. He hadn't married her because he needed a wife for business. He had married her to keep his seat on the board while he waited for Victoria's career to stabilize so they could go public.
She was a placeholder. A warm body. A nanny with a ring she couldn't wear.
She clicked on Victoria's latest Story. It was a video of Victoria trying on wedding dresses. The caption read: Waited five years for this moment. Finally in the light.
Five years.
The exact length of Serena's contract.
Serena threw the phone onto the passenger seat. It bounced off the Lego box and slid to the floor.
She gripped the steering wheel so hard the leather creaked. A scream built in her chest, raw and jagged, but she swallowed it down. Screaming wouldn't help. Crying wouldn't help.
She reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a tube of lipstick. It was a deep, blood red. Julian hated red lipstick. He said it was too aggressive. He preferred her in nude tones, invisible and compliant.
Serena uncapped the tube. She used the rearview mirror to apply the color. Her hand was steady now. The red looked stark against her pale skin. It looked like war paint.
She started the car. The engine roared to life.
She wasn't going to the Hamptons to serve them. She wasn't going to be the silent assistant.
She drove fast, weaving through the traffic out of the city. The sun began to set, casting long shadows across the highway. By the time she reached the iron gates of the Sterling estate in the Hamptons, it was dark.
The driveway was lined with luxury cars. The windows of the mansion glowed with golden light. She could hear the faint sound of jazz music drifting from the house.
Serena parked her modest sedan between a Bentley and a Ferrari. She grabbed the Lego box.
She checked her reflection one last time. The red lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
She got out of the car, her heels clicking loudly on the cobblestones. The butler opened the door, his eyes widening slightly when he saw her. He opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to tell her to use the service entrance, but Serena walked right past him.
She wasn't a servant tonight. She was a woman with nothing left to lose.
