Chapter 2: The Secret My Fiancé Refused to Tell Me
Ethan arrived twenty-three minutes later.
I knew because I watched the clock above the dressing table while sitting beside my ruined gown, still wearing the white silk robe I had planned to change out of before the rehearsal dinner.
When the door opened, he rushed inside with his jacket hanging from one hand.
“Amara!””
He crossed the room in three long strides and knelt in front of me.
His eyes moved over my face, searching for injuries.
“Did she touch you?””
I shook my head.
“No.””
“Did anyone else?””
“No, Ethan.””
He exhaled sharply, then pulled me into his arms.
I buried my face against his shirt.
For the first time since the paint hit the dress, I let myself cry without trying to stop.
“I spent eight months making it,” I whispered.
“I know.””
“I wanted you to see it tomorrow.””
“I know, sweetheart.””
“I even changed the neckline three times because I couldn't get it right.””
He stroked my hair.
“Then we'll find a solution.””
I pulled back.
“How? There's no time to make another one.””
“Then you won't wear another one.””
I stared at him.
“What?””
He glanced at the ruined gown.
“You'll wear whatever makes you happy. A simple dress, your favorite outfit, even pajamas if that's what you want.””
Despite everything, a small, broken laugh escaped me.
“Pajamas at a cathedral wedding?””
“I'll wear them too.””
“You'd look ridiculous.””
“I'd look like a very handsome man in expensive pajamas.””
I almost smiled.
Then his expression changed.
He looked toward the open doorway.
“Where's your father?””
“Downstairs. With Vanessa and Brianna.””
“Did your father believe you?””
I hesitated.
“He said he'd have someone look at the dress in the morning.””
Ethan's jaw tightened.
“And Brianna?””
“She said the bucket slipped.””
He stared at the gown.
“Of course she did.””
Something in his voice made me sit up.
“What does that mean?””
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he stood and examined the paint buckets. He picked one up, inspected its label, and turned it over.
Then he looked at the dress again.
“Did you see where she got these?””
“No. They were already here when I walked in.””
He photographed the buckets with his phone.
“Ethan, you're scaring me.””
He lowered the phone.
“I'm sorry.””
“Then tell me what's going on.””
He pulled a chair beside mine and sat down.
“Three weeks ago, Brianna contacted me.””
My heart skipped.
“Why?””
“She said she wanted to talk about you.””
I swallowed.
“What did she say?””
“At first, she asked whether I was sure I wanted to marry you.””
I stared at him.
“Why would she ask that?””
“She claimed you were hiding something from me. She said you had a habit of manipulating people and that I'd eventually regret marrying you.””
My eyes burned.
“She told you that?””
“Yes.””
“And you didn't tell me?””
“I didn't want to create a fight between you and your family over something I couldn't verify.””
I looked away.
“That's not fair.””
“I know.””
“You should have told me.””
“You're right.””
His willingness to admit it made my anger falter, but the hurt remained.
“What else did she say?””
Ethan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“She told me she was in love with me.””
The room seemed to tilt.
I gripped the edge of the chair.
“She said that to you?””
“Yes.””
“What did you say?””
“I told her I loved you and that she needed to stop contacting me privately.””
I stared at the crystal buttons on my ruined dress.
“Did she stop?””
“No.””
He pulled out his phone.
“I received another message yesterday.””
He turned the screen toward me.
The message was short.
You still have time to make the right choice. Once you marry her, everything gets complicated.
My fingers went cold.
“What does she mean by that?””
“I don't know.””
“You don't believe that.””
He rubbed his jaw.
“I believe she knows something she's trying to use against us. I don't know whether it's real, exaggerated, or something she's invented.””
I read the message again.
Then I noticed something.
The message had been sent at 10:14 p.m. the previous night.
At 10:14, Brianna had been sitting beside me at dinner, asking whether I planned to wear my mother's pearl earrings with the dress.
She had smiled when I showed her a photograph of the gown.
She had even said it was beautiful.
“She's been planning this,” I whispered.
Ethan squeezed my hand.
“That's what I'm afraid of.””
I stood abruptly.
“I need to confront her.””
“Not yet.””
“Why not?””
“Because she's counting on you losing your temper. If you go downstairs crying and screaming, she'll tell everyone you're unstable.””
I hated that he was right.
I looked at the ruined dress.
“So what do we do?””
“First, we preserve everything. The buckets, the room, the messages. Then we figure out why she thinks she can threaten our marriage.””
I nodded slowly.
Ethan took more photographs, including close-ups of the paint and the splashes on the marble.
When he reached the doorway, he stopped.
“Amara, there's one more thing.””
I closed my eyes.
“What now?””
“Your father called my office last week.””
I turned.
“Why?””
“He asked whether I had reviewed the final paperwork for the family property trust.””
I frowned.
“What family property trust?””
Ethan stared at me.
“Your mother's trust.””
For a moment, I heard nothing but the hum of the air conditioner.
“My mother didn't have a trust.””
“She did.””
He spoke carefully.
“Your father mentioned it when we discussed the prenuptial agreement. He said your mother had established a fund for you when you were a child.””
I shook my head.
“No one ever told me.””
“Apparently, it wasn't supposed to be distributed until you turned thirty or married, whichever came first.””
I sank back into the chair.
“I turned twenty-nine in April.””
“And tomorrow, you're getting married.””
The pieces refused to fit together.
“What does that have to do with Brianna?””
“I'm not sure.””
He sat beside me again.
“But your father asked whether the marriage would change the trust's ownership structure. I told him I'd need to review the original documents before answering.””
“Why would Dad care about that?””
Ethan's expression was troubled.
“That's what I want to know.””
A faint knock sounded at the door.
We both turned.
My father stepped inside.
“Ethan,” he said, sounding relieved.
“I'm glad you're here.””
Ethan stood.
“Robert.””
Dad glanced at the dress, then quickly looked away.
“I was hoping we could speak privately.””
“About what?”” I asked.
He hesitated.
“Amara, sweetheart, I need you to let Ethan and me talk.””
I stared at him.
“Why?””
“It's business.””
“Then you can talk in front of me.””
His expression hardened.
“Don't make this difficult.””
I felt something inside me go still.
“Dad, my sister destroyed my wedding dress, lied about it, and tried to make me look responsible. You didn't even ask her to apologize properly. Now you're here asking my fiancé to have a private business conversation?””
He rubbed his forehead.
“That's enough.””
“No. It isn't.””
Ethan stepped between us slightly.
“Robert, whatever you need to say, say it here.””
Dad looked at him for several seconds.
Then he closed the door.
“Fine,” he said.
“Let's talk about the trust.””
Ethan's face became unreadable.
“What about it?””
Dad lowered his voice.
“I need you to convince Amara to postpone the wedding.””
My mouth fell open.
“What?””
Dad didn't look at me.
“There are complications with the estate, and a marriage tomorrow could create legal problems that we need time to resolve.””
Ethan's eyes narrowed.
“What legal problems?””
Dad's lips pressed together.
“That's confidential.””
“Confidential from whom?”” I asked.
“Your daughter?””
He finally looked at me.
“Amara, I am trying to protect this family.””
“From what?””
He said nothing.
Then Ethan pulled out his phone and opened a photograph of a document.
“Robert, is this why you wanted to speak privately?””
Dad went pale.
I looked at the screen.
It showed the first page of a legal agreement.
At the top, beneath a seal I recognized from our family attorney, were the words:
*IRREVOCABLE BENEFICIARY TRUST — AMARA ELLIS.*
Below that was a date from fifteen years earlier.
And at the bottom of the page, someone had written a handwritten note.
If Amara marries before the age of thirty, all outstanding claims must be resolved immediately.
My father stared at the note.
Then he looked at Ethan.
“Where did you get that?””
Ethan's voice was ice-cold.
“From the attorney who drafted it.””
Dad took a step backward.
“You shouldn't have that document.””
“Why?””
“Because it's not the complete agreement.””
“Then give us the complete agreement.””
Dad's hands trembled.
For the first time in my life, my father looked genuinely frightened.
And before he could answer, a voice came from the hallway.
“Because the rest of it would explain why Amara was never supposed to get married.””
Brianna stood in the doorway.
She was no longer crying.
May you like
In her hand was a thick manila envelope.
And she was smiling again.
