Chapter 3 – THE STOLEN HEIRLOOM IN THE HALLWAY

“Where is it?” Luca’s voice was dangerously calm.

Lorraine lifted her chin, though her neck was flushed red.

“The child is confused. He shouldn’t even be in here.”

“He is the groom’s nephew,” I said, speaking up before I could stop myself.

Everyone looked at me again. The maid in the black-and-white uniform who had started this entire chain of events.

I didn’t care if I was fired. I couldn’t let them do this to this family.

“I saw your assistant, Mrs. Whitcomb,” I continued, my voice shaking but loud enough for the room to hear. “I saw her outside the bridal suite twenty minutes ago, holding a gold pocket watch.”

Daniel turned to me, his eyes wide.

“My dad’s watch? The one he wore when he proposed?”

I nodded.

Daniel looked at Lorraine.

“You took my father’s watch from a child?”

“It was collateral!” Lorraine snapped, dropping the pretense. “Your mother was behind on this month’s payment. We had a right to seize assets!”

The collective gasp from the two hundred guests was loud enough to drown out the orchestra, which had entirely packed up their instruments.

Caroline looked like she was going to be sick.

She turned to Daniel.

“Is this true? Have you been paying my parents this whole time?”

Daniel nodded, shame covering his face.

“I didn’t want you to know. I thought… I thought if we got married, the investment would clear the debt, and my mom would finally be free.”

He looked at Patricia.

“I just wanted you to stop working, Mom. I just wanted you to rest.”

Patricia stood up.

She leaned heavily on her cane, but her back was straight.

“Daniel,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady. “I never worked for them. I worked for you.”

She looked at Lorraine.

“You can have the money. You can have the watch. But you will not take my son’s dignity. And you will not tell him where his mother sits.”

She turned to Daniel.

“We are leaving.”

“No,” Luca said.

Everyone stopped.

Luca pulled out his cell phone.

He typed a quick message, hit send, and slid the phone back into his pocket.

“Nobody is leaving,” Luca said. “Except the people who don’t belong here.”

He looked at Lorraine.

“You have five minutes to return the watch. Or I’m calling the police and reporting an extortion ring operating out of my hotel.”

Lorraine laughed nervously. “You wouldn’t dare. My husband—”

“Your husband,” Luca interrupted, “just received a phone call from my legal team. We’re freezing all of Whitcomb Enterprises’ accounts pending a fraud investigation. I own the bank you use, Lorraine.”

Her face went completely gray.

“You… you can’t do that.”

“I just did.”

Luca turned to me.

“Rachel.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Go find the assistant. Get the watch.”

I didn’t hesitate. I turned and practically ran toward the ballroom doors.

But before I could reach them, they opened from the outside.

A man walked in.

He was older, in his sixties, with silver hair and an impeccably tailored suit.

He looked furious.

It was Richard Whitcomb. Caroline’s father.

He marched straight down the aisle, ignoring the whispers of the guests.

He didn’t look at his daughter. He didn’t look at Daniel.

He walked right up to Lorraine.

And he slapped a manila folder against her chest.

“What have you done?” Richard demanded, his voice shaking with rage.

Lorraine stumbled back. “Richard, darling, I can explain—”

“Explain this?” He ripped the folder open, letting dozens of bank statements flutter to the floor.

“You’ve been funneling money from an old debt into a private offshore account? For twelve years?”

Daniel stepped forward.

“Wait. You didn’t know?”

Richard looked at Daniel, his expression a mix of horror and deep shame.

“Daniel, my boy… I swear to God, I had no idea.”

He looked at the floor, where the papers lay scattered like dead leaves.

“But that’s not the worst of it,” Richard said heavily.

He looked up, locking eyes with Patricia.

“Your husband never owed Thomas Vance a dime.”

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