Chapter 2 - The Bride’s Perfect Wedding Begins to Collapse
The first person to recover from the shock was Richard Sterling.
He had built an entire life on the ability to appear composed when everything underneath was collapsing.
His smile returned.
It was thin and brittle.
“Dominic, you certainly know how to make an entrance.”
Dominic glanced at the broken champagne glass near Beatrice’s feet.
“So does your daughter.”
Beatrice stiffened.
Leo came around the table.
He looked older than he had an hour earlier.
Not physically.
Something in his face had changed.
He approached Genevieve slowly.
“I thought you were still in Connecticut.”
“I was.”
“You’re out?”
“For six months.”
Leo lowered his voice.
“I didn’t know.”
Genevieve studied him.
“Did you ask?”
That stopped him.
“No.”
She gave a tiny nod.
“Then you know exactly as much as you chose to know.”
Dominic watched the exchange.
He knew Leo loved people too easily.
That had always been his weakness.
And perhaps his greatest strength.
Beatrice crossed the room.
Her smile was perfect enough to look painted.
“Genevieve, what a surprise.”
Genevieve looked at her.
“Beatrice.”
“I heard you moved away after prison.”
“I did.”
“How fortunate that you’ve found employment again.”
Dominic’s eyes cooled.
Genevieve touched his sleeve before he could respond.
“I have.”
“What do you do now?”
Genevieve smiled.
“I manage books.”
A few guests exchanged looks.
Beatrice’s smile faltered.
“For whom?”
“A group that understands numbers better than your father’s accounting department.”
Dominic almost laughed.
Richard stepped in.
“That’s enough.”
He turned toward Dominic.
“Come with me.”
Dominic did not move.
“You're hosting a wedding.”
“I am aware.”
“Then why are you talking to me instead of your daughter?”
Richard’s eyes hardened.
“She is upset.”
Genevieve answered before Dominic could.
“She has every right to be.”
Beatrice looked at her father.
“Daddy.”
Richard placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Go upstairs.”
Beatrice’s eyes remained on Genevieve.
“I want to know why she’s here.”
“Because Dominic invited her.”
“No.”
Beatrice shook her head.
“There’s something else.”
Genevieve said nothing.
That silence was more unsettling than any confession.
Beatrice had always remembered Genevieve as a woman with perfect suits and perfect manners.
She had never imagined seeing her again like this.
Stronger.
Colder.
Untouchable.
And beside the most feared man in New York.
The irony was brutal.
Three years earlier, Beatrice had attended the hearing when Genevieve was sentenced.
She had worn black.
She had told reporters afterward that she felt devastated by the betrayal of someone she had trusted.
She had lied.
All of it had been planned.
Genevieve’s downfall had made room for Beatrice to inherit the Sterling financial division.
But the public knew none of that.
And now Genevieve was standing ten feet away wearing a gown that looked like a declaration of war.
At dinner, Dominic sat beside her.
Across the table, Leo kept glancing at Genevieve.
“You're really okay?”
Genevieve looked at him.
“No.”
Leo blinked.
She continued quietly.
“I’m better.”
He lowered his eyes.
“I should have visited.”
“Yes.”
“I thought my father said—”
“I know what your father said.”
Leo looked toward Richard.
Then back.
“I'm sorry.”
Genevieve did not forgive him.
But she didn't punish him either.
That was somehow worse.
After the first course, Judge Sullivan approached.
He stopped beside Genevieve.
“Miss Croft.”
She turned.
“You sentenced me.”
“I upheld the evidence presented.”
“You knew the evidence was fabricated.”
The judge went rigid.
Dominic stood.
Genevieve touched his hand.
“Sit.”
Dominic watched her.
She looked at Sullivan.
“You should be grateful I have not spent the last three years becoming a worse person.”
Sullivan swallowed.
“What do you want?”
“The truth.”
“I gave the court what I had.”
“No.”
Genevieve leaned closer.
“You gave the court what Richard Sterling handed you.”
A camera flashed from across the room.
Sullivan stepped back.
“You should be careful.”
Genevieve smiled.
“I learned that lesson in prison.”
He walked away.
Dominic leaned toward her.
“You didn't mention you wanted a confession.”
“I don't know what I want.”
“Then why come?”
She touched the necklace at her throat.
“Because somebody invited me.”
“Who?”
She looked around the ballroom.
“I don't know.”
Dominic noticed that she kept checking her phone.
“Show me.”
“No.”
“Genevieve.”
“I said no.”
His gaze sharpened.
She met it.
Then, unexpectedly, smiled.
“You're used to people obeying you.”
“Yes.”
“I won't.”
“I noticed.”
“And somehow you're still interested.”
He paused.
“That’s because you don't scare me.”
Her eyes softened for one moment.
“That's not why.”
Dominic knew what she meant.
Then a waiter approached.
“Ms. Croft?”
She looked up.
“Yes?”
The man placed a folded card beside her plate.
Genevieve opened it under the table.
Her fingers froze.
Dominic saw her expression change.
“What is it?”
She handed him the card.
Three words.
WEST CORRIDOR. MIDNIGHT.
Dominic looked up.
The waiter was gone.
He gestured to Vincent.
“Find him.”
Vincent disappeared.
At eleven forty-five, Genevieve left the ballroom.
Dominic followed at a distance.
The castle had quieted.
Guests were drinking.
Music had changed.
The West Corridor was dark.
Genevieve approached a small library.
The door opened.
Inside stood an old woman.
Late sixties.
Silver hair.
Formerly immaculate posture.
Genevieve recognized her.
“Martha Bell.”
Richard Sterling’s former private secretary.
Martha looked terrified.
“You came.”
“You sent the message?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Martha closed the door.
“Because I have spent three years knowing an innocent woman went to prison while I helped the people who put her there.”
Genevieve’s breath caught.
Martha pulled a small flash drive from her purse.
“Your father never stole the money.”
Genevieve went still.
“My father?”
“Your father didn't know anything about the embezzlement.”
Genevieve's eyes narrowed.
“What are you talking about?”
Martha whispered:
“The $80 million was never yours.”
“Then whose was it?”
Martha looked toward the door.
“Richard Sterling's.”
Genevieve’s heartbeat quickened.
“Why frame me?”
“Because you found the second set of accounts.”
Genevieve stared.
“I found discrepancies.”
“You found the hidden accounts.”
Martha’s hands trembled.
“You were going to expose him.”
A sound came from the corridor.
Footsteps.
Martha panicked.
“Take this.”
Genevieve grabbed the drive.
The door burst open.
A man lunged.
Dominic appeared behind him.
He caught the attacker before he reached Genevieve and slammed him into the wall.
The man pulled a knife.
Dominic twisted his wrist.
The blade fell.
Vincent arrived seconds later.
The attacker was unconscious.
Genevieve looked at Martha.
“You knew this would happen.”
Martha's eyes filled with tears.
“I knew they would kill me eventually.”
“Who?”
Martha whispered:
“Richard.”
Then she collapsed.
Dominic caught her.
Genevieve stared.
The wedding orchestra continued in the ballroom.
People laughed.
Glasses clinked.
And upstairs, the woman whose life had been destroyed sat dying in a library with the truth in her purse.
Dominic looked at Genevieve.
“Now you tell me everything.”
May you like
She closed her fingers around the drive.
“For the first time,” she whispered, “I think I can.”
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