Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Vanished
Vincent felt as if all the oxygen had been vacuumed out of the ballroom. The boy, Leo, nestled his face into Vivienne’s neck, peering cautiously at Vincent with those undeniable Moretti eyes.
""Vivienne?"" Vincent laughed bitterly, shaking his head. ""Don't play games with me, Anna. You can change your name, you can change your hair, but you cannot change your face. I held you every night for four years. I know every inch of you.""
Murmurs rippled through the gathering. Dozens of phones were already being subtly angled toward them. Chicago society had gossiped for years about the horrific crash that claimed Vincent Moretti’s pregnant heiress wife while he miraculously saved his childhood sweetheart. Seeing him publicly confront Julian Vance’s wife was the scandal of the decade.
""Vincent, darling, please stop this,"" Sophia arrived at his side, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she grabbed his elbow again. She cast a sharp, venomous glance at the woman in emerald before looking up at Vincent. ""You're having another episode. The doctor said the stress and anniversaries trigger these hallucinations. Anna is gone. She died in the Rockies.""
Sophia turned toward the woman with an apologetic, patronizing smile. ""I am so sorry, Mrs. Vance. My fiancé has suffered terribly from survivor’s guilt. You happen to bear an unfortunate resemblance to his late wife.""
The word 'fiancé' hung in the air like a razor wire. Vincent watched Vivienne closely, searching for the slightest flinch, the faintest flicker of heartbreak that Anna would have inevitably shown. But Vivienne Vance’s expression didn't waver. Instead, an amused, pitying smirk crossed her face.
""A tragic story, Miss Carter,"" Vivienne replied, her voice smooth as velvet silk. ""However, your fiancé's psychological trauma is not my problem. If he approaches me or my son again, I will have security escort him off the premises, followed immediately by a restraining order.""
""Anna, look at me!"" Vincent pleaded, ignoring Sophia entirely, his voice cracking with an agony he hadn't displayed in public for years. ""Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't hear me screaming your name when the cabin blew. I came back for you! The fire drove me back!""
""You didn't come back,"" Vivienne whispered. The words were so soft, so quiet that only Vincent and Julian caught them. For a fraction of a second, the mask slipped, revealing the bottomless abyss of betrayal burning beneath her cool exterior. Then, just as swiftly, the icy socialite facade snapped back into place. ""Enjoy your evening, Mr. Moretti. Come along, Julian. Leo needs his dinner.""
Julian Vance cast Vincent a look of unadulterated contempt before placing a protective hand at the small of Vivienne’s back, guiding her and the child toward the VIP terrace.
Vincent lunged forward, but two massive Vance security guards stepped into his path like stone pillars.
""Step back, Mr. Moretti,"" one of them rumbled.
""Vincent, stop it!"" Sophia tugged violently at his arm, tears of frustration glistening in her eyes. ""Look around you! Everyone is staring! You are humiliating both of us for a dead woman who isn't even her!""
Vincent turned his head slowly, looking at Sophia. For three years, he had kept Sophia close out of an obligation born from that horrific day—because if he didn't marry Sophia, then abandoning Anna to save her would have meant nothing. It would have meant he sacrificed his wife and child for a whim, for a ghost of the past. But staring at Sophia now, all he felt was a sickening, suffocating revulsion.
""She didn't die,"" Vincent said hollowly, pulling his arm completely out of Sophia’s reach. ""She survived. And she hates me.""
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Without waiting for Sophia’s reply, Vincent marched out of the gala, pulling his phone from his breast pocket and dialing his head of private intelligence.
""Marcus,"" Vincent commanded, his voice cold and lethal. ""Pull every single record on Julian Vance’s marriage. When did he marry Vivienne? Where did she come from? And I want a DNA swab from that boy within twenty-four hours. Do whatever it takes.""
