A working-class young woman would kill to become assistant to Paris's top modiste, but she must first seek vengeance against those responsible for the death of her family, in this thrilling historical horror from New York Times bestselling author Erica Ridley! Eighteen-year-old Angélique dreams of designing opulent gowns for society’s elite, but her reality is a life spent dyeing silk in a sweatshop. That is, until tragedy strikes, leaving her orphaned and responsible for her younger sister. Determined to elevate their station, Angélique secures a position as a junior dressmaker for Paris’s top modiste. Though she’s tormented by other seamstresses for being poor, and her meager salary barely pays rent, she refuses to give in. When a high-stakes contest for a coveted protégée role is announced, Angélique will do whatever is necessary to win—even if it means resorting to deadly measures. What’s a little arsenic between coworkers? As Angélique outshines—and outlives—the competition, her newfound privilege and power are weaponized against those who destroyed her family. Will she conquer the world of high fashion to claim her rightful place as Paris’s best designer, or will the cost of ambition be too high? “With an innocent heroine turned serial killer, The Protégée is a sharp, diabolically dark dip into the cutthroat world of nineteenth-century fashion , reminiscent of a film noir, that will leave you questioning the concept of morality. A categorically chilling page-turner .” —Amalie Howard, USA Today bestselling author of Lady Knight “A bloody and brilliant takedown of the bourgeoisie, with plot twists as finely crafted as its protagonist’s dresses. Revenge has never looked so chic .” —Lydia Gregovic, USA Today bestselling author of The Monstrous Kind “ Ridley stitches together a dazzling tale of 1850s Paris , where the glamour of the fashion world collides with the sharp edge of class wars and revenge. With every page, the tension and the body count rise. Well-researched, Inventive, and gripping .” —Bryce Moore, author of The Perfect Place to Die "Sumptuous, with a seam of dark humor and in the spirit of Dumas, The Protégée shows what happens when poor, sweet, talented girls are twisted by grief to turn deadly, vengeful, and defiant .” —Ellie Marney, New York Times bestselling author of None Shall Sleep " A satisfying tale of bloodlust, revenge, and fashion." — Kirkus Reviews "Ridley’s fashionable tale of rhapsodic retribution is a blistering critique of capitalism. Macabre and delightfully twisty , Ridley's YA debut is perfect for fans of V. E. Schwab and Kate Alice Marshall." — Booklist "[A] twisty and visceral revenge thriller." — Publishers Weekly "Angélique is a sympathetic character. No matter what she did, I found myself rooting for her to achieve all her goals, even the unsavory ones." —Historical Novel Society Erica Ridley is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of witty, feel-good historical romance novels, included The Wild Wynchesters series. When she's not reading or writing romances, Erica can be found eating couscous in Morocco, getting hopelessly lost in the middle of Budapest, or zip-lining through rainforests in Costa Rica, where she currently resides. The Protégée is her YA debut. Chapter 1 Paris, France 18 September, 1850 Jagged shards of sunlight stab through my lowered eyelashes, and a needle plunges into the tip of my finger. For a moment, I’m tempted to leave it in there. Why not? I’ve suffered worse. There’s no blood. Not yet. Not while the slender silver needle protrudes from my flesh, vibrating with joy at having bested me in a rare moment of inattention. Old memories are to blame again. My brain flashed to an unbidden image of the gruesome day I lost my father, and the needle saw its chance to remind me of pain. “Keep sewing, Angelique,” snaps Mademoiselle Jacqueline. The other five girls dart their eyes at me, quick as cockroaches. They don’t bother to hide their titters. They want me to hear their ridicule. To know I will never belong. They have worked here for years. I’m almost finished with my six-month trial in this windowless room with its hive of sewing tables in the center. Ankle-high scraps like piles of dead leaves line all four walls. We are newborn chicks in a giant bird’s nest. Baby egrets, to be exact, known for killing their siblings before they can learn to fly. I stare at the needle again. “Angelique,” Mademoiselle Jacqueline says in warning, flipping her long pale hair over her shoulder. She’s not the owner of this luxury dress shop. That distinction goes to famed modiste Madame Violette, who is fitting clients in one of the plush dressing chambers at the front of the store, helping to turn yet another wife of an industrialist into a queen dripping with bespoke wealth. Every sign of excess is calculated to generate the maximum amount of envy from each client’s peers, who will then descend