Chapter 4 - The Night Before the Storm
The water from the shower was running, filling the small bathroom of our cottage with steam. Through the frosted glass door, I could see the silhouette of Daniel, the man I had trusted with my soul.
I stood in the bedroom, staring at the velvet box in my hand.
Four thousand, five hundred dollars.
Purchased yesterday. By Jenna.
The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, but the picture they formed was horrifying. Had Daniel sold himself to my sister to pay off his medical bills? Had he traded his loyalty, our relationship, for the money she had stolen from our friends and family?
“Be thankful, Mia. Some brides get nothing.”
Jenna’s words echoed in my head, now carrying a sinister double meaning. Was she referring to the blender? Or was she referring to my husband?
I wanted to scream. I wanted to storm into the bathroom, rip the shower curtain open, and throw the diamond necklace in his face. I wanted to pack my bags and drive away, leaving this entire cursed family behind.
But then, I looked at the receipt again.
Something didn't make sense.
The receipt had a small note scribbled on the back in Jenna’s distinctive, aggressive handwriting:
“For services rendered. Don’t be late tonight. Room 204.”
Room 204 was the bridal suite.
My eyes narrowed. If this was an affair, why would Jenna write a receipt and a note like a business transaction? Why would she leave a paper trail in his jacket pocket where I could easily find it? Jenna was arrogant, but she wasn't stupid. She was a licensed real estate broker; she knew how to hide things.
Unless...
She wanted me to find it.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, my mind racing.
Jenna knew I hated public conflict. She knew that if I found out my fiancé was cheating on me with her, my immediate reaction would be to flee. I would cancel the wedding, run away in shame, and she would be left holding all the power. She would tell everyone that I was unstable, that I ruined the wedding, and she would keep the $18,000 as "compensation" for all her hard work.
She was baiting me.
But what about Daniel? Why did he go to the room? Why did he accept the necklace?
I put the necklace back in his pocket, exactly as I had found it. I wiped a stray tear from my cheek, took a deep breath, and forced my face into a mask of perfect calm.
When Daniel emerged from the bathroom, steam billowing out behind him, he was drying his hair with a towel. He looked at me and smiled, but I noticed a slight tremor in his hands.
"Hey," he said softly. "You look tired. You should get some sleep. Tomorrow is a big day."
"Daniel," I said, sitting on the bed. "Are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell me? About the wedding? About Jenna?"
He froze for a fraction of a second. The towel stopped moving. Then, he forced a smile and shook his head. "No, honey. Nothing. I just want tomorrow to be perfect for you. I know how much you've been through."
He walked over, bent down, and kissed my forehead.
It felt like a Judas kiss.
"I'm going to go check on the rehearsal dinner setup one last time," he said, grabbing his jacket—the one containing the diamond necklace. "I'll be back in an hour."
"Okay," I whispered.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in years.
"Richard?" I said when the call connected.
Richard was Jenna’s husband. He was a wealthy, high-powered corporate attorney who spent ninety percent of his time in New York. He was cold, analytical, and obsessed with his public image.
"Mia?" Richard’s voice was crisp and annoyed. "Why are you calling me? I told Jenna I couldn't make it to the wedding this weekend. I have a merger to close."
"You might want to change your plans, Richard," I said, my voice dripping with icy calm. "Because your wife just spent seventeen thousand dollars of stolen family money on an offshore investment portfolio. And she spent another forty-five hundred dollars yesterday on a diamond necklace for my fiancé."
There was a long, heavy silence on the other end of the line.
"What did you say?" Richard asked, his tone suddenly dropping into a dangerous, quiet register.
"I have the bank records, Richard. I have the wire transfer receipts. And I have security footage of your wife and my fiancé in the bridal suite at two in the morning," I said, leaning back against the pillows. "If you want to protect your assets before the State Department of Revenue freezes your joint accounts on Monday morning, I suggest you get on a private jet and get to the Grand Oak Manor by tomorrow morning."
"I'll be there by 9:00 AM," Richard said, and hung up the phone.
I stared at the screen.
The stage was set. The players were in place.
I had the banker, the husband, the tax lien, and the security footage.
But as I lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling, a cold dread settled deep in my stomach. I still didn't know the truth about Daniel. If he had betrayed me, the revenge I was planning would destroy him too.
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And despite everything, a part of my heart still bled for him.
I closed my eyes, praying for morning to come, knowing that tomorrow would either be the day I became a wife, or the day I became a widow to my own dreams.
