CUT IT UP. I WANT THE LACE FOR MY WEDDING TABLES.” THE BILLIONAIRE’S FIANCÉE THREW HIS LATE WIFE’S GOWN ACROSS A 61-YEAR-OLD SEAMSTRESS’S LAP

Chapter 1

The heavy mahogany doors of the ballroom swung open.

A young man in a grey courier uniform stood awkwardly in the entryway. He held a leather clipboard against his chest, his eyes darting across the forty-eight silent guests.

Nathan didn’t wait for him to speak. He walked past the engagement table, his tailored suit shifting as he moved.

“You collected six garment boxes from this property yesterday,” Nathan said, his voice dangerously quiet.

The courier swallowed hard. “Yes, sir. Authorization was cleared through Miss Cross.”

Delaney stood up, her ivory-laced cuffs brushing against the crystal wine glasses. “Nathan, please. You’re making a scene in front of our friends.”

“Who bought them?” Nathan asked the courier, ignoring her completely.

“I can’t disclose client information, sir.”

Nathan pulled a sleek black checkbook from his breast pocket. He clicked a silver pen and wrote a number that made the courier’s eyes widen. He tore the check and held it out.

“Who bought my wife’s belongings?”

The courier looked at Delaney, then at the check. He took the paper.

“They weren’t sold to an individual,” the courier said, checking his clipboard. “They were shipped directly to a textile recycling facility in Ohio. The instructions were to shred everything down to raw fibers.”

A collective gasp rippled through the dining room.

I felt my chest tighten. Shredded. The yellow cashmere coat Rebecca loved. The baby blankets she had knitted for Sophie. Delaney hadn’t sold them for profit. She had paid to have them permanently erased.

Sophie buried her face deeper into the ivory wedding gown on my lap. She was shaking.

“Why would you do that?” Nathan asked, turning to Delaney. The warmth was completely gone from his eyes.

Delaney lifted her chin, her beautiful face hardening. “Because I am tired of living in a museum, Nathan! For three years, I have been the perfect partner. I helped raise your daughter. I managed this estate. But every time I walk down the hallway, I see her coats. I smell her perfume. I cannot be your wife if I am constantly competing with a ghost.”

It sounded reasonable to the guests. Some of the older women nodded sympathetically.

But I had known Rebecca since she was a little girl. And I knew Delaney.

Delaney had been Rebecca’s private physical therapist during her final illness. She was the one who had introduced herself to Nathan while his wife was dying upstairs.

“You didn’t just throw away her clothes, Delaney,” I said, my voice cutting through the murmurs. “You cut up her wedding dress to decorate your engagement outfit. That isn’t moving on. That’s a trophy.”

Delaney’s eyes snapped to me, venomous and sharp. “Eleanor, you are a hired seamstress. Know your place.”

Nathan stepped between us. He looked at the courier.

“Call the facility in Ohio. I want the boxes returned tonight. I’ll pay triple whatever they charge.”

The courier shifted his weight, looking down at his boots. “I can’t do that, Mr. Sterling.”

“I just gave you fifty thousand dollars.”

“It’s not about the money, sir,” the courier said, pulling a folded manifest from his clipboard. “The shredding order wasn’t authorized by Miss Cross.”

Nathan frowned. “What are you talking about? She just admitted to it.”

The courier handed the manifest to Nathan.

“Miss Cross called for the pickup,” the courier explained quietly. “But the legal authorization to destroy the items… it was signed three years ago. By the owner.”

Nathan stared at the paper. His face went entirely pale.

He lowered the document.

“That’s Rebecca’s signature,” Nathan whispered.

I froze.

Why would a dying mother order the destruction of her own memories, knowing her seven-year-old daughter would one day want them?

Before Nathan could process it, Sophie pulled away from my lap. She reached into the pocket of her small velvet dress and pulled out a faded, folded piece of blue stationery.

“Mom didn’t want them destroyed,” Sophie said, her voice trembling but clear. “She told me to hide this.”

Delaney lunged across the table. “Give me that!”

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