Chapter 1 – The Name On The Envelopes
Dominic stared at the stamp of Arden & Associates on the back of the envelope. The heavy silence in the study was broken only by the crackle of the fireplace.
“My fiancée’s father,” Dominic repeated, his voice dangerously low. “Thomas Arden was my father’s most trusted legal counsel. He handled my mother’s estate after the crash.”
Eleanor gripped the arms of her chair. “He didn’t just handle her estate, Dominic. He handled her isolation. After she barely survived the car wreck, Margaret woke up in a private clinic. Thomas Arden told her that you blamed her for your father’s death in the crash. He said if she ever came near you again, he would ensure the Falcone family destroyed what was left of her life.”
I stood by the door, my heart pounding against my ribs. I shouldn’t be here. I was just a maid trying to pay for my father’s medical bills. But Dominic hadn’t dismissed me.
Suddenly, the study doors burst open. Celeste marched in, her silk engagement gown rustling violently.
“Dominic, the guests are asking for you,” she demanded, her eyes darting to the blue suitcase. “And I see you’re still listening to this scam artist. I just called my father. He is on his way.”
Dominic didn’t look at her. He held up the bundle of letters. “Did you know about this, Celeste? Did you know your father intercepted my mother’s letters for eleven years?”
Celeste’s expression faltered, but she recovered quickly. She let out a pitying sigh. “Darling, I didn’t want to tell you this way. Yes, my father intercepted them. Because your mother suffered severe brain damage in that crash. She became violent. Delusional. My father kept her away to protect you.”
Dominic froze. The reversal hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Was Eleanor lying? Or was Celeste?
“She wasn’t violent!” Eleanor cried out, her frail voice shaking. “She was heartbroken! And she wasn’t alone in that clinic.”
Eleanor reached into the bottom of her suitcase and pulled out a tarnished silver rosary. It was heavy, beautiful, and instantly familiar. My breath caught in my throat.
Eleanor bypassed Dominic and walked straight toward me. She pressed the cold silver into my trembling hands.
“Margaret didn’t just leave these letters,” Eleanor whispered, her eyes locking onto mine. “She left this for the daughter of the woman who helped her escape the clinic. Your mother, Anna. Your mother was Margaret’s secret protector.”
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