Chapter 2
The dining room was so quiet I could hear the antique grandfather clock ticking in the hallway.
Twenty-eight guests sat paralyzed.
Vanessa’s face had lost all its color. She gripped the edge of the mahogany table, her knuckles stark white against the dark wood.
“Luca, please,” she stammered, her voice stripped of its usual elegance. “He’s just a child. He misunderstood me.”
Luca didn’t blink. “He misunderstood you telling him he had to earn his place at my wedding?”
“I was stressed! The catering, the flowers, the press…” Vanessa took a frantic step toward him, her elbow catching her crystal-beaded clutch.
It plummeted to the hardwood floor.
The gold clasp shattered open. Lipstick, a compact mirror, and a folded piece of paper spilled across the Persian rug.
I was closest. Instinctively, I knelt to pick up the mess.
My fingers brushed against the paper. It was thick, slightly textured, and folded clumsily—like a child had done it.
“Don’t touch that!” Vanessa shrieked.
She lunged past Luca, her silk gown tearing as her heel caught the hem, but I had already unfolded the paper.
It was a child’s drawing. Crayon on construction paper.
Ethan gasped from his father’s side. “My picture!”
I looked at it. It was a beautiful, innocent drawing of three stick figures holding hands: a tall man in a black suit, a little boy in blue, and a woman with long brown hair. Above them, Ethan had written in wobbly letters: Daddy, Me, and Mommy.
But something horrific had been done to it.
The woman’s face—Ethan’s late mother—had been violently scratched out with a thick red marker. The paper was nearly torn from how hard the marker had been pressed.
And right over the ruined face, someone had written a single word in elegant, cursive handwriting: DELETED.
My stomach violently turned.
“Miss Vanessa…” I whispered, unable to hide my disgust.
Luca stepped forward, his shadow falling over me. He took the drawing from my trembling hands.
For three agonizing seconds, he stared at the red ink. The muscles in his jaw locked so tight I thought his teeth might shatter.
“You did this?” Luca’s voice wasn’t a yell. It was a terrifying, hollow whisper.
Vanessa scrambled backward, pressing herself against the dining chair. “No! Luca, I swear! I found it like that!”
“You found my son’s drawing in your purse?”
“I found it in Nora’s room!” Vanessa pointed a shaking, manicured finger directly at my chest. “I saw her defacing it! She hates Ethan! She was trying to frame me to ruin our wedding!”
The entire room gasped.
My heart slammed against my ribs. “That is a lie!” I cried out, stepping in front of Ethan to shield him from her pointing finger. “I would never hurt him!”
Luca didn’t even look at me. He kept his eyes locked on Vanessa.
Slowly, deliberately, he flipped the drawing over.
There was printed text on the back. It was a misprinted document Vanessa must have used as scrap paper to hide the drawing.
Luca’s eyes scanned the text. His face drained of all warmth.
“You found this in Nora’s room?” Luca asked softly.
“Yes!” Vanessa cried, tears streaming down her face. “She’s insane, Luca!”
Luca held up the paper, showing the back of the drawing to the entire room.
“Then explain to me, Vanessa,” Luca said, his voice dropping to a deadly rumble, “why Nora has a signed, non-refundable admission contract for the Saint Jude Boarding School in Switzerland… completely filled out in your handwriting.”
Share
