C. A. (Hides face in his hands) They’ve got it worse than me. I can’t provide for them no more. My wife’s working two jobs, on top of looking after me. My boys don’t know what’s happened to their dad cos they’re too young to understand. They can’t see my injuries so they don’t know why I can’t get on the boards or why I won’t go throw a ball with them.

C. P. So you lost more than just a world title that day.

C. A. I lost the only titles that matter. Father. Husband. I wish I could just . . . go back to that day and do it all different.

C. P. But what could you do differently?

C. A. (Silence)

C. P. . . . Cory?

Chapter One

One year later
London, April

‘And the winner is . . .’

The lights pooled on the stage, spotlighting the flawless form of the beautiful young actress in the gold lamé dress.

‘Clover Phillips, with Pipe Dreams!’

The room erupted into jubilant applause and Clover felt Liam’s grip tighten around her hand, a rough cheek pressed against her own. ‘You did it.’

‘We did it,’ she said generously. Her idea, her graft, her years of research and filming, interviewing, editing, pitching . . . but his money. And money was king in every industry.

The spotlight had found her already, its beams sinking into the thick plush of her emerald velvet tuxedo as hands of the people sitting all around her reached out for a touch, a stroke, a squeeze as she passed by, as if to absorb some of her newly endowed glory.

She walked up the steps and towards the podium, where the distinctive gold mask was being held towards her. It felt surprisingly heavy as ownership was conferred on her, the actress greeting Clover with a delicate air kiss and enveloping her in a subtle scent of rose otto and neroli.

She looked out into the auditorium, recognizable faces from a world that wasn’t hers, smiling back at her like old friends, telling her this award – like all the others – was a key that let her into the club; all those famous people knew her name, admired her work. She was twenty-seven years old and, on the inside, one of them.

She allowed a small smile to grow upon her lips, revelling in the moment of glory as still the clapping continued. She was growing accustomed to making these speeches now. ‘Thank you,’ she nodded. ‘Thank you.’