Chapter 4 - Whispers in the Dressing Room
I descended the winding grand staircase, my mind operating with surgical precision. Julian’s warning was still ringing in my ears: Those loan sharks will find out he’s alive, and they’ll come for all of us.
If I simply walked up to Adrian in the hallway and slapped him, he would have security escort me off the property as a crazy, disgruntled vendor. Colleen would claim I was a stalker or a deranged ex who couldn't accept reality. With Arthur Sterling’s private security team patrolling the perimeter, I would be thrown into the back of a squad car before I could say a word, and Adrian’s high-priced lawyers would bury me in restraining orders while the wedding proceeded without a hitch.
No. A public monster required a public execution.
I walked toward the groom’s private quarters on the ground floor. The hallway was quieter now; most of the groomsmen had migrated toward the club’s cigar patio to kill the final half-hour before the ceremony. As I approached the dressing room, the door was cracked open an inch.
I stopped beside a massive marble urn, blending into the shadows.
Inside, Adrian’s voice was sharp, hushed, and dripping with venom. ""Did you find her or not, Julian?""
""I told you, she’s the florist!"" Julian’s voice cracked with hysteria. ""She saw you, Adrian! She saw your face, she recognized the suit, she knows about the casket! She’s upstairs right now with Evelyn!""
""What?!"" The sound of glass shattering echoed through the room. Adrian had thrown his tumbler against the fireplace. ""Why didn't you stop her? Why didn't you drag her out by her hair?""
""Because there are sixty catering staff and two dozen armed guards walking around, you idiot!"" Julian snapped back. ""If I cause a scene, Arthur Sterling’s head of security will come sniffing around. If they run your prints or pull your real social security number, we’re all going to federal prison for grand fraud and faking a death!""
""Shut up!"" Adrian hissed. I heard heavy footsteps pacing back and forth across the hardwood. ""Nobody is going to prison. Meredith is weak. I know her. She’s an emotional, sentimental little shopkeeper who spends her evenings crying over stray cats. She’s probably having a panic attack in the parking lot right now. She doesn't have the guts to stand up to Arthur Sterling.""
""You don't know that, Adrian,"" Colleen’s voice chimed in, trembling with maternal anxiety. ""She looked at me in the hall earlier. Her eyes... they didn't look sad, Adrian. They looked cold.""
""Then we handle her quietly,"" Adrian said, his voice dropping into a sinister, cold calculation that chilled me to the bone. ""Julian, go down to the parking lot. Find her floral van. If she’s in it, tell her I’ll meet her behind the maintenance shed in ten minutes to explain everything. Tell her I did this to protect her, that I was coming back for her once I secured the money. Feed her whatever romantic garbage she needs to hear to keep her mouth shut until four o’clock.""
""And if she won't listen?"" Julian asked.
""Then lock her inside the shed until the vows are exchanged,"" Adrian snarled. ""Once I say 'I do,' Arthur Sterling’s lawyers are obligated to protect my legal standing to avoid a multi-million-dollar PR scandal for their family. Even if Meredith screams the truth from the rooftops at five o’clock, Arthur will pay her five hundred thousand dollars to sign a non-disclosure agreement just to keep the Sterling name out of the tabloids. Either way, we win. Now get moving!""
I didn't wait to hear another word.
I spun on my heel and slipped silently down the service corridor toward the main reception ballroom. Adrian’s entire scheme rested on one single assumption: that Arthur Sterling would protect him to avoid embarrassment after the ceremony was complete.
Adrian believed I was the same naive, pliable girl who used to bake him cookies when he had a bad day at work, the girl who emptied her savings account because he told her business was slow.
May you like
He had forgotten that before I opened my flower shop, I had worked for three years as an investigative paralegal for the Suffolk County District Attorney’s office. I didn't need to scream. I didn't need to cry.
I just needed the right microphone.
