Chapter 2: The Secret Behind the Missing Dress
For three seconds, I forgot how to breathe.
My father's name sat at the bottom of the security report in black ink.
Not a rumor.
Not a family accusation.
A recorded entry showing that Daniel Ellis had entered the private bridal corridor at 11:42 p.m. the previous night.
He had left at 12:16 a.m.
Twenty-four minutes.
Long enough to remove a security tag, open a garment bag, and hand the most important dress of my life to someone who had no right to touch it.
I stared at Olivia.
"Did you see the footage?""
"Only a short clip. The security director said he needed to review the full recording before releasing anything.""
"Where is my father now?""
"Downstairs. Sitting in the front row.""
Nathan's jaw tightened.
"Your father helped Brittany steal your dress?""
"I don't know yet.""
But the answer was already forming in my mind.
My father had never been the loudest person in our family. That was my mother, Eleanor, who could turn a dinner-table disagreement into a three-hour lecture about loyalty.
Dad preferred quieter methods.
He made phone calls.
He moved money between accounts.
He signed documents and called them favors.
He could destroy someone's argument with a gentle smile and a sentence beginning with, "Let's be reasonable.""
When Brittany crashed her first car, he paid for the repairs before I had finished asking whether she was hurt.
When she lost her job after insulting her supervisor, Dad found her another position through a business associate.
When she attempted to steal my scholarship portfolio, he asked the school to reconsider her application because she was going through a difficult period.
He had always protected her.
But helping her steal my wedding dress was something else entirely.
"Let's go downstairs," I said.
Nathan moved in front of me.
"Not until we know what we're walking into.""
I raised an eyebrow.
"Are you asking me to hide in the dressing room?""
"I'm asking you not to walk into a room full of people who have already been manipulated without knowing what evidence we have.""
It was the kind of thing I loved about him.
He never told me I was too emotional to make decisions.
He simply wanted me to have all the facts.
I looked at Olivia.
"Can you get the security director up here?""
"He's on his way.""
"Good. And ask the estate manager to hold the ceremony for ten minutes.""
Nathan blinked.
"You still want to get married today?""
I turned toward him.
"Unless you've changed your mind.""
His eyes widened.
"Madison, I would marry you in a grocery store parking lot while wearing a paper bag if that's what it took.""
I laughed despite myself.
"That would be a terrible photograph.""
"I'd frame it.""
He kissed my forehead.
"Whatever happens downstairs, I'm not leaving you.""
A knock sounded at the door.
Olivia opened it to reveal a broad-shouldered man in a charcoal suit. His name was Marcus Reed, Bellamere Estate's security director.
He carried a tablet and a small sealed envelope.
"Ms. Ellis," he said, "I apologize for the disruption. We have a serious issue.""
"Show me.""
Marcus set the tablet on the dressing table.
The footage began at 11:41 p.m.
My father appeared in the corridor, wearing the same navy suit he had worn to the rehearsal dinner. He looked over his shoulder before using a keycard to enter my bridal suite.
I leaned closer.
"That keycard should only have been issued to me and the wedding coordinator.""
Marcus nodded.
"Your father used a temporary access card.""
"Who issued it?""
"We're investigating that now.""
On the screen, Dad emerged thirteen minutes later, pushing a garment rack covered in a white protective sheet.
My dress.
He glanced toward the elevator, then wheeled the rack through the service corridor.
A second figure appeared at the end of the hallway.
Brittany.
She wore a white dressing gown and carried a pair of scissors.
She opened the garment bag, inspected the bodice, and said something that the camera couldn't capture.
Then she hugged Dad.
I felt Nathan's hand tighten around mine.
Marcus paused the footage.
"There is more.""
He opened the envelope and removed a printed photograph taken by a camera in the service entrance.
My father was standing beside Brittany's car.
Between them sat the ivory gown.
Brittany was holding a small silver object.
The security tag.
She dropped it into her handbag.
I looked away from the screen.
"Why did you wait until this morning to tell me?""
Marcus's expression hardened with regret.
"The camera system flagged the garment movement, but the alert was routed to the wedding coordinator's administrative account. The message wasn't opened until this morning.""
Olivia covered her mouth.
"I never saw it.""
"Someone deleted the email notification," Marcus said.
"We're checking the access logs.""
Nathan stepped forward.
"Can you preserve everything? Every message, every camera recording, every access-card entry?""
"Already done.""
"Good.""
I looked at the photograph again.
My father's face was turned toward the camera.
He wasn't smiling.
He looked nervous.
That frightened me more than anything Brittany had done.
Brittany enjoyed causing chaos. She liked watching people scramble to contain the damage she had created.
My father preferred order.
If he had agreed to help her, there had to be something in it for him.
"What else did you find?"" I asked.
Marcus hesitated.
"The dress wasn't the only item removed from your suite.""
He placed a second photograph on the table.
It showed a slim black document case that had been stored inside the locked drawer beneath my dressing mirror.
My stomach dropped.
"That case contained my company files.""
"What kind of files?"" Nathan asked.
"Copies of the contracts for my upcoming collection. Financial projections. Manufacturing agreements. Some preliminary licensing documents.""
Marcus nodded.
"The case was removed at 12:03 a.m. It was returned at 12:19 a.m.""
"Was it opened?""
"We don't know.""
I stepped closer to the photograph.
The drawer had been locked with a key I kept on a chain around my neck.
Someone had used a duplicate.
My father had not only helped steal my dress.
He had entered the one place where I kept confidential business documents.
"Did he take anything?""
Marcus glanced at the tablet.
"One document appears to be missing from the case.""
"What document?""
"We're still identifying it.""
I felt the floor shift beneath my feet.
Nathan wrapped an arm around my waist.
"Madison, we can postpone the ceremony.""
"No.""
"Your family has stolen from you. Your business files may be compromised. We don't know what else they've done.""
"Exactly," I replied.
"And if I disappear upstairs, they get to tell everyone whatever story they want.""
I lifted my chin.
"I've spent my entire life letting my family speak first. I'm done.""
Marcus closed the envelope.
"Would you like me to contact the police?""
"Not yet. First, I want a complete inventory of what was removed and returned. I also want copies of every recording.""
He nodded.
"And no one leaves this estate without being identified. Quietly. I don't want a scene until I know exactly what happened.""
Marcus looked impressed.
"Understood.""
After he left, Nathan turned toward me.
"There's something you should know.""
I studied his face.
"What?""
"My mother called me at six this morning.""
My fingers went cold.
"What did she say?""
"She asked whether I would consider postponing the wedding if you changed your mind about the dress.""
I stared at him.
"Why would she ask that?""
"She said you were having doubts about marrying me. She claimed you'd told her the wedding was a mistake.""
A bitter laugh escaped me.
"I haven't spoken to her privately in three weeks.""
"I know.""
"Then why didn't you tell me?""
"Because I thought she was trying to provoke me. I told her the wedding was happening, and she hung up.""
He rubbed his forehead.
"At the time, I assumed it was another argument about the ceremony. I didn't know she'd planned this.""
I looked toward the ballroom doors.
Victoria had called me unworthy of her son while helping my sister wear my gown.
She had told the guests I was too selfish to marry Nathan.
Now I understood that she had been preparing the story long before the orchestra began playing.
"Did your mother know about the dress?"" I asked.
"I don't know.""
I studied him carefully.
He didn't look away.
"I'll ask her myself," he said.
"No. Not yet.""
"Madison—"
"I want to hear what she says when she thinks she has already won.""
I reached for my bouquet.
"Let's go.""
The ballroom was louder than before.
Guests stood in small clusters, whispering behind their hands. A few had their phones raised, hoping to capture the next development.
Brittany stood near the altar, holding a champagne flute.
My dress sparkled beneath the chandelier lights.
Victoria was beside her, speaking to a group of Nathan's relatives.
My mother sat in the front row, dabbing her eyes with a lace handkerchief.
When she saw me enter, she rose so quickly that her chair scraped across the marble.
"Madison!""
Her voice carried across the room.
"Thank goodness. We were beginning to worry.""
I walked toward her.
"Why is Brittany wearing my dress?""
Mom glanced at Brittany, then at the guests.
"Not here. We can discuss this privately.""
"No. You seem perfectly comfortable discussing my supposed emotional instability in front of three hundred people. We can discuss the dress in front of them, too.""
Several guests turned toward us.
My mother's mouth tightened.
"Don't make a scene.""
I looked down at my champagne-gold gown.
"That's interesting advice from someone whose younger daughter is wearing her older daughter's wedding dress.""
Brittany approached us, lifting the front of the skirt to avoid stepping on the train.
"Madison, please don't do this.""
"Do what?""
"Humiliate me.""
I stared at her.
She was serious.
Brittany believed that the humiliation she had inflicted on me became my responsibility the moment I refused to conceal it.
"I didn't put you in that dress," I said.
She lowered her voice.
"You know how much this means to me.""
"Then you should have designed your own.""
Her cheeks reddened.
"Not everyone has your opportunities.""
"You had opportunities. You had my studio, my contacts, and my help. You rejected all of them because you wanted the recognition without the work.""
"That's not fair!""
"You submitted my portfolio under your name.""
"That was years ago!""
"And now you're wearing my wedding gown.""
Brittany looked toward the guests.
"She gave me permission!""
The words rang through the ballroom.
I turned toward her.
"Then show me the message where I gave you permission.""
Her lips parted.
No answer came.
I waited.
"Show me.""
Brittany's eyes darted toward our father, who had just risen from his seat.
"That's enough," Dad said.
He walked toward us with his hands raised in the familiar gesture he used whenever he wanted everyone to calm down and stop asking questions.
"Madison, your sister is upset. You've both had a difficult morning.""
"A difficult morning?"" I repeated.
"You entered my bridal suite last night and removed my gown.""
His face changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
"Who told you that?""
"Security has the recording.""
The color drained from his cheeks.
Mom grabbed his arm.
"Daniel, what is she talking about?""
Dad looked at me, then at the surrounding guests.
"This is a private family matter.""
"No. You made it a public matter when you helped my sister steal my wedding dress.""
He leaned closer.
"Lower your voice.""
I stepped back.
"Don't tell me what to do.""
The ballroom fell silent.
Nathan moved to my side.
"Mr. Ellis, I suggest you answer her question.""
Dad's expression hardened.
"You have no idea what you're getting involved in, Nathan.""
Nathan didn't blink.
"I know someone entered my fiancée's room and stole from her. That's enough for me.""
Victoria approached, her heels clicking against the marble.
"This is absurd," she announced.
"The ceremony has already been delayed. We cannot spend the entire afternoon indulging a family argument.""
I turned toward her.
"Then stop making one.""
Her eyes narrowed.
"Excuse me?""
"You helped my sister take my place. You announced to our guests that I was unfit to marry your son. If you want this wedding to proceed peacefully, you can begin by explaining why.""
Victoria's jaw tightened.
"I was trying to protect Nathan.""
"From what?""
"From a woman who puts her career above everything else.""
Nathan stepped forward.
"Mother, stop.""
Victoria looked wounded.
"I am thinking of your future.""
"No," he said.
"You're thinking of controlling it.""
A murmur passed through the guests.
Brittany's champagne flute trembled in her hand.
Then she did something I hadn't expected.
She began to cry.
Not quietly.
She pressed both hands to her face and sobbed loudly enough that several guests rushed toward her.
"I tried to do something beautiful," she wailed.
"I wanted Madison to see how much I admire her. I never meant for everyone to turn against me!""
Our mother immediately wrapped her arms around Brittany.
"Oh, sweetheart. Nobody is turning against you.""
Brittany clung to her.
"She hates me!""
Mom looked at me with tears in her eyes.
"Madison, please. Your sister is having a breakdown. Whatever happened, can't you forgive her?""
I stared at them.
The same performance.
The same script.
The same expectation that I would surrender my anger to make everyone else comfortable.
But this time, I noticed something.
Brittany wasn't crying into our mother's shoulder.
She was looking at Dad.
Through the tears, she gave him a tiny, almost invisible nod.
Dad reached into his jacket.
He pulled out a folded document and held it toward me.
"Perhaps this will help you understand why we made the decision we did.""
I didn't take it.
"What is it?""
"A contract," he said.
"One you should have signed weeks ago.""
Nathan frowned.
"What contract?""
Dad unfolded the paper.
At the top, in bold lettering, were the words:
*ELLIS ATELIER — TRANSFER OF OWNERSHIP.*
My name appeared beneath them.
So did Brittany's.
And at the bottom, beside the signature line marked Current Owner, was a signature that looked disturbingly like mine.
I had never signed that document.
May you like
Dad smiled sadly, as if I were the one who had disappointed him.
"Madison," he said, "you need to understand that your company is no longer entirely yours.""
