Chapter 2 - THE WEDDING THAT NEVER HAPPENED
I opened the door after hiding the USB inside my shirt pocket.
Rebecca stood there.
Her expression was soft.
Almost loving.
“What's wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You've been in here for almost ten minutes.”
“I needed air.”
She studied me.
“You're nervous.”
“I suppose I am.”
She smiled and reached for my hand.
I pulled it back.
The movement was small.
But she noticed.
Rebecca's eyes narrowed for half a second.
Then she smiled again.
“Daniel, whatever you're worried about, you don't have to be.”
I almost laughed.
She had no idea.
The ballroom was filled with ninety guests.
Friends.
Business associates.
Neighbors.
Family.
People who had come to watch me marry a woman they believed had made me happy again after five lonely years.
My first wife, Margaret, had died suddenly from a heart condition.
I had spent years refusing to date.
Then Rebecca entered my life.
She was charming.
Patient.
Understanding.
She knew how to make me laugh.
She remembered Margaret without becoming threatened by her memory.
At least, that's what I thought.
Now I wondered how much of that had been an act.
I walked into the ballroom.
The music began.
The guests turned.
Rebecca stood at the end of the aisle.
Beautiful.
Calm.
Smiling.
Waiting for me.
But I didn't move.
The officiant looked confused.
Rebecca's smile faltered.
“Daniel?”
I stepped toward the microphone.
“I apologize.”
A murmur moved through the room.
Rebecca stared at me.
“What are you doing?”
“I can't marry you today.”
Silence.
Her face went white.
“Daniel…”
I looked at the guests.
“I've just discovered something that requires my attention.”
Rebecca grabbed my arm.
“Can we talk privately?”
I looked at her.
“No.”
Her fingers tightened.
“Please.”
I gently pulled away.
Then I turned toward my family.
“Where is Emily?”
Nobody answered.
Rebecca's mother, Patricia, stood.
“She wasn't feeling well.”
“I know.”
I looked toward Sarah.
“Where is she?”
Sarah lowered her eyes.
“She's at my house.”
“I need to see her.”
Rebecca suddenly stepped in front of me.
“Daniel, this is humiliating.”
I stared at her.
“You're right.”
Her face changed.
“You don't know what you're doing.”
“I know exactly what I'm doing.”
I walked away.
Behind me, I heard Patricia whisper:
“Rebecca, do something.”
I stopped.
She hadn't realized I could hear her.
I turned.
Rebecca was staring at her mother.
For the first time, I saw fear in her eyes.
Not sadness.
Fear.
I left the ballroom.
Sarah met me outside.
She looked exhausted.
“Dad…”
“Where's Emily?”
“She’s upstairs.”
I ran inside.
Emily was lying on the couch.
Her cheek was bruised.
Her lip was split.
My heart shattered.
“Oh God.”
I knelt beside her.
“Who did this?”
Emily looked at me.
“Rebecca.”
I closed my eyes.
“I should have listened.”
“No.”
She grabbed my hand.
“She wanted me to sign something.”
“What?”
“A power of attorney.”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“She said you wanted me to transfer my inheritance rights.”
“I never said that.”
“I knew.”
Emily reached for her phone.
“I found out she had been meeting with your financial adviser.”
Thomas.
My best friend.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I tried.”
“What stopped you?”
“She threatened Noah.”
My blood went cold.
“What did she say?”
Emily looked away.
“She said accidents happen to children.”
I stood.
“Where is Noah?”
“At Sarah's.”
“Safe?”
“Yes.”
I hugged my daughter.
Then I pulled out the USB.
“Where did this come from?”
Emily stared at it.
“I gave it to Noah.”
“You gave it to a three-year-old?”
“I knew he would protect it.”
A weak smile crossed her face.
“He loves you.”
I sat beside her.
“Tell me everything.”
Emily took a breath.
“Rebecca isn't after your money alone.”
“What else?”
“She wants control of your company.”
“That makes no sense. She isn't involved in my business.”
“She doesn't need to be.”
Emily opened her phone.
She showed me several photographs.
Rebecca with Thomas.
Rebecca with my lawyer.
Rebecca with a man I'd never seen before.
Then she showed me a document.
My company shares.
A clause had been inserted into my estate plan.
If I married Rebecca, she would become controlling beneficiary of my private holdings.
If I died within five years of the marriage, she would inherit nearly everything.
I stared at the page.
“Who prepared this?”
Emily whispered:
“Thomas.”
My best friend.
My business partner.
My financial adviser.
My lawyer.
All connected.
I felt physically sick.
Then my phone rang.
Thomas.
I answered.
“Daniel.”
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“You should come back to the hotel.”
“Why?”
“Because Rebecca is devastated.”
I looked at Emily.
“She should be.”
There was silence.
Then Thomas said:
“You have no idea what you're doing.”
I smiled bitterly.
“That's exactly what I thought about you.”
I hung up.
Emily looked at me.
“What are you going to do?”
I stood.
“Protect you.”
“And after that?”
I looked toward the window.
“Find out how deep this goes.”
That night, police arrived at my house.
Not because I called them.
Because someone had reported that I had threatened Rebecca.
I stared at the officers.
Rebecca had already begun building her story.
But she had made one mistake.
She had forgotten about Noah.
Because a three-year-old had witnessed something she never expected him to remember.
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And the next morning, Noah told me one sentence that changed everything.
“Grandpa, Mommy wasn't the first person she hurt.”
