Chapter 1 - THE DRESS WAS ONLY THE BEGINNING
Lorenzo stared at the dry-cleaning claim ticket in Evelyn’s hand.
For several seconds, the only sound in the pantry was the faint hum of the refrigerator.
“Three days ago?” he asked.
Evelyn nodded.
“Vanessa ordered the dress removed from Elena’s bridal inventory three days ago.”
Lorenzo looked at the paper again.
There was Vanessa’s signature.
There was the inventory number.
And beneath it was the name of the private tailoring company that had handled Elena’s gown.
His stomach tightened.
“Why would she have access to the bridal inventory?”
“She was given access.”
“By whom?”
Evelyn did not answer.
Lorenzo already knew.
“Celeste.”
Evelyn lowered her eyes.
“Your stepmother told the wedding coordinator Vanessa was authorized to make changes.”
Lorenzo's jaw tightened.
“She had no authority.”
“No,” Evelyn said quietly. “But everyone in this house believed she did.”
Lorenzo turned away.
The wedding.
Three hundred guests.
Politicians.
Business partners.
Family allies.
People who had spent months hearing that Elena Hart would become Elena DeMarco.
And now Elena was gone.
Not kidnapped.
Not taken.
Not stolen.
She had walked away.
Voluntarily.
That fact frightened Lorenzo more than anything else.
He had spent his entire life believing people left his world because they were forced to.
Elena had left because she wanted to.
He pulled out his phone and called Marco.
“Cancel the wedding.”
Marco froze.
“Sir?”
“You heard me.”
“The guests are already arriving.”
“I don't care.”
“Your father’s old associates—”
“I said cancel it.”
Marco lowered his voice.
“There’s something else.”
Lorenzo looked up.
“What?”
“We checked the security footage.”
“And?”
“Elena didn't leave through the main gates.”
“I know.”
“She didn't leave through the service entrance either.”
Lorenzo frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
Marco handed him a tablet.
The footage showed Elena walking through the East Wing corridor at 6:55.
Then nothing.
At 6:58, a delivery van exited the estate.
Lorenzo watched the screen.
“Stop.”
Marco paused the footage.
“Zoom in.”
The driver was hidden behind tinted glass.
But the passenger seat was visible.
Empty.
Lorenzo stared.
“She didn't leave in that van.”
“No.”
“Then how?”
Marco swallowed.
“There is another camera.”
He opened another feed.
A black sedan appeared on a narrow private road behind the estate.
Elena was sitting in the back seat.
Beside her was an elderly man.
Lorenzo leaned closer.
His blood ran cold.
He knew that face.
Everyone in Chicago's old underworld knew it.
Salvatore Bellini.
His father's former lawyer.
A man who had disappeared from public life seven years earlier.
A man believed to be dead.
Lorenzo looked at Marco.
“Where did that car go?”
“We're tracking it.”
“Find it.”
“Already trying.”
Lorenzo stared at Elena's frozen image.
Then he noticed something else.
Her suitcase.
It wasn't the suitcase she had packed.
Someone had switched it.
Marco zoomed in.
The luggage tag showed a different name.
Not Elena Hart.
Not even a DeMarco name.
It read:
Evelyn Brooks.
Lorenzo slowly turned toward the pantry door.
“Where is Evelyn?”
“She left the estate ten minutes ago.”
“Find her.”
But Evelyn had already disappeared.
And for the first time in Lorenzo DeMarco's life, he realized the people closest to him had been keeping secrets from him.
May you like
Not because they feared him.
Because they were protecting Elena.