Chapter 5 - The Shadow in the Mirror
I let myself lean against him for precisely three seconds. His coat smelled of cedar, rain, and clean cotton, an anchoring contrast to the storm raging inside my head. Then, my stubborn pride took over, and I pushed myself upright, smoothing down the crumpled satin of my wedding dress.
"I’m fine," I lied, clearing my throat and stepping away. "I’m perfectly fine."
"You're shaking," Thomas said, not unkindly. He walked over to the shop's front door, turned the deadbolt with a clean *click*, and pulled down the dark green privacy shade.
"Who is Marcus Kane?" I asked, leaning against the counter. "And why did Evelyn look like she had seen a ghost the second you mentioned him?"
Thomas turned back, loosening his silk tie just enough to unbutton his collar. "Marcus Kane is Graham’s primary creditor. A very wealthy, very ruthless man who makes his living funding high-risk corporate startups. Graham borrowed four million from Kane's private equity firm claiming he had acquired the land rights to the entire block Bellamy Blooms sits on."
My eyes widened. "The entire block?"
"The city is rezoning this district next month for high-density luxury residential development," Thomas explained, his sharp gaze sweeping over the exposed brick and high wooden beams of my mother's shop. "The land Bellamy Blooms occupies is the linchpin. Without this corner plot, the developer can't build the entrance plaza. Graham planned to sell your land to Kane for triple the market value, pay off his debts, and disappear to Switzerland with the surplus."
"And the wedding?" I choked out, a bitter laugh tearing from my throat. "Why go through the whole charade of flowers, tastings, tuxedos, and vows?"
"Because your mother's trust had a clause," Thomas revealed, pulling a folded legal docket from his inner pocket. "I read the probate records yesterday. The deed to this shop could only be transferred to a third party upon your marriage, with your spouse's co-signature, or upon your default on the municipal mortgage."
The blood rushed to my ears. My mother hadn't set that up to hurt me; she had set it up to protect me from predatory developers when she was dying. She thought if I was married, I would have a partner to shoulder the weight.
Instead, Graham had used that exact protection as a trap.
"He never loved me," I whispered. It wasn't a question. It was a realization that felt like cold water settling in my bones. "He spent eight months pretending to love me just to rob my mother’s grave."
"He's a parasite, Miss Bellamy," Thomas said quietly, stepping closer. "He picks host bodies with resources, drains them, and leaves before the rot sets in."
Suddenly, the phone on the counter buzzed violently.
It wasn't the shop landline. It was a secondary, disposable burner phone tucked inside the pocket of Graham’s envelope that Thomas had brought in.
Thomas and I both froze, our eyes locking on the vibrating device.
The screen flashed with a contact name: *Lydia.*
My stomach dropped into a bottomless pit. "Lydia? My cousin Lydia?"
"The one who followed you out of the hotel?" Thomas asked, his eyes narrowing. "The one who told you to 'handle this discreetly'?"
"She was my maid of honor," I whispered, horror washing over me in waves. "She helped me pick this dress. She buttoned my back this morning."
Thomas picked up the phone, tapped the speaker icon, and muted the microphone before holding it between us.
A voice spilled from the tiny speaker—breathless, frantic, and undeniably Lydia’s.
May you like
"Graham? Graham, where are you?!" Lydia panicked through the line. "Evelyn called me. She said Vance is at the shop and June has the papers! Did you get the emergency key to the safe from the floorboards? Graham, answer me! If Vance gets that ledger, we're both going to prison!"
***
