Chapter 4 - The Bride’s UltimatumAdrian didn't turn around immediately. He kept his eyes locked on Nora, as if looking away for even a second would cause her to dissolve back into the ghosts of Richmond.
"Adrian Keller!" Mrs. Marlow’s voice sharpened, echoing across the paved courtyard like a crack of a whip. Several guests who had just arrived turned their heads, murmuring softly among themselves.
Adrian slowly turned his head toward the mansion. The raw, vulnerable look in his eyes vanished behind a mask of cold, rigid detachment—the exact armor he had worn in corporate boardrooms across Europe.
"Go," Nora whispered, her voice barely audible over the rustle of the oak leaves. "Your bride is calling."
"This isn't over, Nora," Adrian said, his voice fierce. "Not by a long shot."
He turned and strode toward the mansion, his footsteps heavy and purposeful against the stone.
Nora stood frozen beside the white rose arch for a long moment, her fingers digging into the clipboard until the edges of the cardstock bent under her pressure. Her mind was racing at a thousand miles an hour. Walter Keller. The stolen phone. The fake email. The coordinated lie that had kept them apart for nearly a decade.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to throw her tablet across the lawn, jump into her car, and drive until she hit the ocean.
Instead, she took three deep, shaky breaths, straightened her blazer, pulled out her backup earpiece, and tapped the mic.
"Tessa, check-in. How are we looking for the guest seating?"
"All on schedule, boss," Tessa's voice crackled back through the tiny speaker. "First shuttle from the parking lot just pulled up. We’ve got high-profile guests, including city council members and half of Meridian Harbor Engineering's executive board."
Nora froze mid-step. "Meridian Harbor Engineering?"
"Yeah. Adrian’s company bought out a major local firm last year. His boss, CEO Richard Vance, is officiating or reading a toast or something."
Richard Vance.
Nora knew that name. He was the man who had supposedly sent Adrian on that permanent assignment to Copenhagen eight years ago—the man who had represented the corporate monster that stole her fiancé away.
Inside the second-floor dressing suite, the atmosphere was thick with hairspray and nervous energy. Elise was sitting at the vanity while her makeup artist added a final dusting of translucent powder.
The door swung open, and Adrian walked in.
Elise beamed in the mirror, turning around. "There he is! My handsome groom. What were you doing outside? Mother said you looked like you were arguing with the staff."
Adrian stopped a few feet away from her. He looked at Elise—really looked at her—for the first time in months. She was beautiful, intelligent, and came from the exact kind of high-society background his father had always demanded he marry into. She was safe. She was approved.
And she was standing in the middle of a trap constructed by his own family.
"Elise," Adrian said quietly. "We need to talk."
Elise’s smile faltered. She stood up, the heavy lace of her gown rustling against the hardwood floor. "Talk? Adrian, the ceremony starts in twenty minutes. What on earth could possibly need talking about right now?"
"Your mother hired Lantern and Lace Events."
May you like
Elise blinked, genuinely confused. "Yes... Mother hired them because they’re the best high-end planners in Charleston. What does that have to do with anything?"
"The owner of Lantern and Lace," Adrian said, holding her gaze with terrifying intensity, "is Nora Vale."
