Chapter 1They Called Me a Nobody

My best friend, my fellow struggling actress, turned out to be the long-lost heiress to one of New York's old-money families.

The day she left our tiny walk-up in Queens, she swore she’d pull me up with her into the good life.

Two months later, she blocked my number.

Fueled by a white-hot rage, I chased her to the city, arriving just in time for her wedding to the son of a titan of industry.

Ava, that ungrateful snake. The second she got a taste of the high life, she forgot all about me.

For the sake of appearances, I swallowed my anger, stuffed some cash in an envelope as a final goodbye to our friendship, and prepared to walk away. But when I looked up, I saw the woman in the wedding portrait wasn't my best friend. It was Chloe, the Davenports' adopted daughter.

Mr. and Mrs. Davenport, the same couple who had once plastered their tear-streaked faces all over national television, begging for their daughter’s return, now spoke of Ava with utter disgust.

“That morally corrupt creature has been thrown out of this house. From this day forward, Chloe is our only daughter!”

“She’s just a no-name extra who learned all her dirty tricks from TV. Since she loves acting so much, we decided to let her star in her own horror show—naked and screaming.”

I just stood there, stunned, the world tilting on its axis.

On the day of that wedding, I brought the Davenport empire to its knees.

A no-name extra?

Hardly.

I am Jade, the Crown Princess of Starlight Entertainment, the largest media conglomerate in Asia.

And my best friend? She is destined to win an Oscar.

* * *

The woman next to me on the flight to New York had been talking for the last hour about the wedding of the decade: the union of the Davenport heiress and Carter Sterling, son of the real estate magnate.

“Twenty custom Rolls-Royces, circling Central Park twice,” she’d gushed, scrolling through a gossip blog on her phone. “The gown was designed in Paris, took a year to hand-bead. And the party favors? The new Hermès Kelly. For everyone.” She sighed, a cloud of envy. “That Davenport girl, she hit the lottery. Disappeared for twenty-three years, and the moment she’s found, she’s wrapped in cotton wool. Parents who adore her, in-laws who basically own the Eastern seaboard… God, I’d wake up laughing in my sleep.”

I gripped the cheap airline blanket bunched in my lap, my knuckles white.

Ava. That ungrateful, forgetful… friend.

She’d sworn on the day she left our shoebox apartment that she’d bring me with her, that we’d finally live the life we’d always dreamed of. Two months later, my number was blocked. Now she was handing out designer bags like party mints while I was still counting my tips to make rent.

I took a cab straight from JFK to the Sterling family’s sprawling Long Island estate. The sheer opulence of the place, with its manicured gardens and fountains that glittered like diamonds, should have made me angrier. Instead, a strange calm settled over me. I pulled all the cash I had from my wallet—a couple hundred dollars—and stuffed it into a wedding envelope. A final transaction to close the account on our friendship.

As I walked toward the entrance, I glanced up at the massive, elegantly framed portrait of the happy couple. And I stopped dead.

The bride smiling in the photograph wasn't Ava. It was Chloe, the Davenports' adopted daughter.

A cold dread washed over me. Something was terribly wrong. I pushed past a confused-looking usher and stormed into the bridal suite, searching for any sign of Ava.

Inside, Mr. and Mrs. Davenport were fussing over Chloe, their faces beaming with pride. They looked up, annoyed by my intrusion. The moment I said Ava’s name, their expressions curdled.

“That morally bankrupt creature has been thrown out,” Mrs. Davenport said, her voice dripping with disdain. “From now on, the Davenports have only one daughter: Chloe.” She gave me a dismissive once-over. “If you’re here for the wedding, have some champagne and find your seat. But if you’re here to make a scene on that little tramp’s behalf, you’ll find we are not nearly as polite as our staff.”

My heart sank to the floor. The way she spat the words “little tramp,” referring to her own flesh and blood…

“I’m here to find Ava,” I said, my voice dangerously steady. “Where is she? Why is her phone off?”

Chloe, who had been watching me with a look of curated curiosity, suddenly shrank back, clutching her mother’s arm. “Dad, it has to be her! I bet Ava sent her! She’s still furious that I won Carter’s heart, and now she’s trying to hurt me again!” she cried, her voice trembling. “Mom, you have to protect me!”

The Davenports’ eyes narrowed, instantly protective and hostile.

I let out a short, cold laugh. This whole damsel-in-distress act was so pathetically outdated. If she wanted to play the victim, I’d be happy to give her a reason.

I snatched a bottle of champagne from a silver bucket on the table and, in one smooth motion, dumped the entire contents over her perfectly coiffed head.

“Aaaah! My dress! You’re insane!” Chloe shrieked. “Mom, my wedding is ruined! It’s ruined!”

Mrs. Davenport lunged at me with a scream, her manicured nails like claws. I sidestepped and slapped her, hard, across her powdered cheek. The sound echoed in the silent room.

“You… you hit me!” she gasped, her hand flying to her face.

As I raised my hand again, Mr. Davenport quickly pulled his wife and daughter behind him, his eyes boring into me with pure hatred. “You really were sent by that monster to destroy Chloe’s day!” he snarled. “Security! Get this woman out of here! She’s trespassing!”

Two large men in black suits started toward me. I didn’t move. Instead, I crossed my arms, sank into a velvet armchair, and casually crossed my legs.

“Inform the guests,” I said, my voice calm and clear, “the wedding is cancelled.”

The head of security, a man with a jaw like a cinder block, stopped in his tracks, gave me a short, respectful nod, and said, “Yes, ma’am.”

The expressions on the three Davenports’ faces shifted from outrage to utter confusion. For the security of the Sterling Estate to obey me, a complete stranger, meant something they couldn't comprehend.

“Who… who in God’s name are you?” Mr. Davenport stammered.