Andrea Hallett had grown up in the limelight of her family's legacy. Her mother, Mia, a former pageant queen, had brought her royal treatment to Utopia, where she still commanded attention and admiration.

Andrea wanted that same spotlight, craved it the way other kids craved normalcy, but even she knew, in the quiet parts of herself she never said out loud, that the climb was brutal and the fall would be worse. Her older brothers had already blazed the trail. Giovanni Jr., Nicholas, and Vincent had each worn the coveted companion sash at different times, names whispered with the same hushed reverence people saved for royalty. Myles, her fourth older brother, was counting down months until his own ceremony. The Hallett boys were Paradise’s golden sons, proof that beauty and charisma ran thick in their blood.

Andrea watched them glitter from the sidelines and told herself her turn was coming. That one day the crowd would look at her the same way they looked at her mother and brothers. She just had to survive the initiation first. “When you’re exhausted and bleeding and the client still wants more, where do you find the next yes?” Her mother asked. “I remember that every ‘yes’ is another brick in the palace I’m building with their money. Pain passes; power compounds,” Andrea replied. Mia’s lips curved, slow and knowing, as sat between Nicholas and Vincent. “See?” she murmured, voice velvet and vindicated. “I told you. She was born ready.”

The praise landed warm across Andrea’s skin, but she let none of it reach her face. A perfect mask, already practiced.

Nicholas gave a low, appreciative laugh. “Poor little debutantes. They won't know what hit ‘em. She’s going to slay the house down.”

“I second that,” Vincent added, tipping an imaginary glass in her direction.

All four of them turned to Giovanni Sr., waiting for the final verdict the way courtiers wait for a king. Giovanni Hallett Sr. studied his daughter for a long, measured beat. Then the corner of his mouth lifted into a smile.“Another Hallett star,” he said, the pride in his voice deep and unmistakable.

“You really mean it, Dad?” Andrea whispered, her smile widening as he nodded without hesitation. “You’re going to outshine everyone at the Ivory Ball,” he replied, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “Now, I have to go meet with Mr. Rice. Keep up the good work.” Andrea beamed as her father left to tend to some business, the warm smile he'd given her still lighting up her face.