Chapter 4

I once thought that weddings were safe havens. Sites where love prevailed, no matter for a moment. Now, strolling through the Whitmore estate, every gilded entrance and velvet curtain seemed like a trap. A stage set for betrayal.

Claire greeted me outside the greenhouse that afternoon, glancing over our shoulders before waving me inside. Rosemary and damp moss filled the air. I couldn't get my breath until she said something.

"I have something," she whispered. "But you won't like it."

My heart constricted. "What now?"

She gave me a keycard. "Selene's private study. I've been monitoring her. I know when she's away. There's a drawer she has locked—bottom one, all the way on the left. If we're going to find out what really happened to Vanessa, we'll find it there."

I looked at the keycard. "You're asking me to break into her study?"

"She broke into your life first. It's time to fight back."

That evening, I went back to the estate with a reason prepared on my lips—a lie regarding swatches and meetings. Selene was off at a spa, Aarav conveniently away for a design meeting. Nobody ought to have been around.

The house creaked with the burden of secrets. I slid down the corridor beside the portrait of Marcus Whitmore, scowling as if he could tell I didn't belong. My hand shook as I slid the card into the panel of the door. Green light. The door clicked open.

Selene's research was different from the rest of the house—modern, sterile, intimidating. Silver-edged snapshots of her grinning alongside dignitaries and celebrities made up the walls. The drawer sat where Claire said it would be. Locked.

I extracted a thin hairpin from my jacket pocket and worked on the lock—years of wrestling with persnickety makeup cases had to amount to something. A click. It opened.

Inside: a fat envelope marked "CONFIDENTIAL." I opened it by flipping it over.

My breath hitched.

A contract between the Whitmore Foundation and a woman named Vanessa Bright. The former wedding planner. Payment had been made to her. but the signature was a fake. And the payment diverted to an offshore bank account.

I picked up my phone to take photos—but I wasn't the only one.

Footsteps.

I crouched behind the door just as it swung open. My heart froze.

Aarav.

He acted quickly, went to the same drawer—but instead of the envelope, pulled out a small flash drive concealed in a false bottom. Then he stood still.

"Who's there?" he snapped.

I emerged, not being able to conceal myself. "Rhea."

His face turned white. "What are you doing here?"

"I could do the same to you," I said.

He didn't reply immediately, just pushed the flash drive into his coat. "You shouldn't be here."

I discovered a fake signature in that drawer. Vanessa Bright. They robbed her, Aarav."

His jaw flexed. "You don't realize—"

"Then explain it to me!"

He gazed at me—and really looked at me—and something in him changed. "This wedding. it's a sham. Selene and me? It's all about finances. She guaranteed my dad's company would make it through if I cooperated."

My gut roiled. "And you went along with it?

At first, yes. But then I met you." He cleared his throat. "You made me feel like I could breathe again."

The admission hung between them like storm clouds.

"I can't walk away," he went on. "Not without bringing my family down. But that doesn't mean I'll let her win."

"What's on the drive?" I asked.

He hesitated. "Proof. Surveillance. Things that could bring her down. But they implicate me too.

I looked at him, the man I was in love with, the man who remained behind enemy lines.

"You have to decide," I breathed. "Her or the truth."

His gaze faltered. "And what happens if the truth kills me?"

"Then at least it's true."

He spoke no more as he left, leaving me alone in a room full of lies, grasping only questions.

But I knew now: Vanessa hadn't disappeared.

She'd been silenced.

And if I didn’t move fast, I’d be next.

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