Chapter 1: A Funeral Like No Other

My older brother died overseas. When the President himself showed up at the funeral, nobody expected what happened next.

The old chapel on Main Street smelled of lemon polish and rain, its white columns streaked from the storm and the faded Stars and Stripes out front snapping in the wind. Inside, the President took one look at my sister-in-law—draped in a black dress that hugged her delicate frame—and his eyes lingered on her in a way that made the whole room hold its breath—even with my brother’s casket just feet away.

His gaze swept over her like she was the only thing worth campaigning for, and even the solemn hush couldn’t mask the hunger in his eyes.

My sister-in-law, Natalie, didn’t flinch or look away. Her pale arms looped easily around the President’s neck, red lipstick flawless beneath the flickering chandelier. She glanced at the casket—just for a heartbeat—her eyes flickering with something sharp and unreadable, pain or calculation or both. Then she let her lips curve, turning back to him with a slow, dangerous smile.

"Mr. President, I know a lot of tricks. Want to try something new?" Her voice rolled out slow and smoky, like the last song in a Nashville dive bar.

The air snapped with tension. Even the minister’s Bible nearly slipped from his hands, and a Secret Service agent shifted his stance, jaw tight, eyes darting anywhere but the President and my sister-in-law.

That night, the candles outside the parlor guttered in the wind till dawn. Somebody’s phone buzzed with a CNN alert, then went silent. Folks driving past on Route 17 caught the glow through the rain, a row of flickering flames shivering against the darkness, long after the last mourner had gone home.

In a single night, Natalie went from war widow to the President’s favorite mistress—the most talked-about woman in Washington.

The morning’s headlines called her “First Lady in all but name.” Her photo—lips parted in that secretive, dangerous smile—flashed across cable news and gossip blogs alike.

Everyone whispered that women like her were heartless and ungrateful.

Gossip buzzed through the church basement, the corner bar, and across backyard fences: "She’ll do anything for power. That woman’s got ice in her veins."

But they didn’t know: with a single smile, a woman like her could bring down a nation.