VIVIAN'S POV
The closet is a trap.
Vivian stands in front of it, surrounded by designer dresses she didn't choose, trying to find something that doesn't scream "I'm a fake." The tech summit starts in three hours. Kade will be expecting her downstairs looking like she belongs in his world.
She doesn't. She belongs in a garage eating ramen, not wearing clothes that cost more than her monthly rent used to be.
Mrs. Chen appears in the doorway like she's been waiting for this moment. The housekeeper has kind eyes and the practiced ability to not judge rich people's problems.
"Mr. Thorne suggested the emerald," Mrs. Chen says gently. "He says it suits your coloring."
Vivian pulls down the dress Mrs. Chen is pointing to. It's beautiful and terrifying. Deep green silk that probably costs more than Vivian made in three months at her startup. She holds it up and realizes her hands are shaking.
"It's just a dress," Mrs. Chen says, but they both know that's not true.
