Chapter 1 - The Woman on the Marble Floor
Simone Bellamy hit the marble floor and gasped, “Why would you do that?”
Gabriel Moretti stepped through the stunned crowd and noticed the wheelchair beside her father.
A silver plate beneath one armrest had been scratched twice.
S.B. — G.M.
Gabriel stopped walking.
This had never been only about a wedding.
For half a second, Simone heard nothing.
Not the champagne flute that shattered near her hand.
Not the orchestra stumbling into silence.
Not the two hundred guests pulling in the same shocked breath.
Only the impact remained inside her body.
Her shoulder burned.
Her palms stung.
Her royal-blue gown had twisted beneath her knees, its sheer sleeves catching against tiny shards of crystal scattered over the polished floor.
Above her stood her older sister, Celeste Bellamy, still beautiful enough to look unreal.
Ivory satin.
Diamond earrings.
Crystal tiara.
A wedding photograph waiting to happen.
Except Celeste was pointing at Simone as if she were garbage somebody had forgotten to remove.
“You were never supposed to sit here,” Celeste said.
The words were quieter than the scream on her face.
That made them worse.
Simone looked behind her.
The chair she had occupied only seconds earlier lay on its side.
Celeste had pulled it away.
Deliberately.
In front of everyone.
Their father, Richard Bellamy, gripped the arms of his wheelchair.
“Celeste!”
His voice cracked through the room.
But Celeste did not even look at him.
Her eyes remained fixed on Simone.
“Get out of my wedding.”
A murmur passed through the ballroom.
Simone recognized faces from newspapers, charity boards, private clubs, construction companies, city offices.
People who had smiled at her during cocktail hour.
People who now found the floor terribly interesting.
Her cheeks burned hotter than her palms.
She had known Celeste did not want her there.
She had known it from the seating chart.
From the invitation arriving three weeks after everyone else’s.
From the bridesmaid photograph Celeste posted online with the caption MY WHOLE FAMILY, despite Simone being nowhere in it.
But their father had begged her to come.
“Please,” Richard had said. “Whatever happened between you girls, she’s still your sister.”
So Simone had come.
She had bought the blue dress.
She had pinned her dark curls into an elegant updo.
She had even brought a gift.
And now she was on the floor.
“Simone.”
The voice came from behind Celeste.
Low.
Controlled.
Male.
Every nearby conversation died before the speaker reached her.
Simone looked up.
Gabriel Moretti stood several feet away.
She knew who he was.
Everyone in Chicago knew the Moretti name, although few people spoke it loudly.
Officially, Gabriel Moretti ran logistics companies, luxury hotels, security firms, and several waterfront developments.
Unofficially, rumors followed him wherever he went.
Men with political influence returned his phone calls instantly.
Bankers who made senators wait somehow found space in their schedules for Gabriel.
People described him with phrases like dangerous connections and old family power.
Simone had expected someone flashy.
Instead he wore an all-black suit with no tie, dark wavy hair slightly unruly above a face that looked carved from patience and warning.
He did not seem angry.
That frightened Celeste more.
Gabriel walked around the broken glass.
He crouched beside Simone.
“You hurt?”
Simone stared at him.
“No.”
It was a lie.
He noticed.
His eyes dropped briefly toward her trembling hand.
“Can you stand?”
“I think so.”
He extended his hand.
Simone hesitated.
Celeste gave an incredulous laugh.
“Gabriel, don’t.”
He did not look at her.
Simone placed her hand in his.
His grip was careful.
Not possessive.
Not forceful.
He lifted her slowly, supporting her elbow when she swayed.
Every eye in the ballroom followed them.
Once Simone was standing, Gabriel released her elbow but kept her hand.
Celeste’s expression changed.
Not anger now.
Fear.
“Gabriel,” she repeated.
He finally turned toward her.
“That’s enough.”
Celeste’s new husband, Preston Vale, stepped away from the head table.
“Mr. Moretti, this is a family misunderstanding.”
Gabriel looked at him.
Preston stopped moving.
Simone had never seen silence used as a weapon before.
Then Gabriel turned back to Celeste.
“No one throws my future wife on the floor.”
The room exploded.
Gasps.
Whispers.
A chair scraped.
Someone dropped another glass.
Simone jerked her hand away.
“What?”
Gabriel’s gaze remained on her.
“My future wife.”
Celeste went white.
Preston stared at Gabriel as though he had suddenly started speaking another language.
Richard Bellamy made a strangled sound from his wheelchair.
“No.”
Gabriel looked toward him.
Richard’s face had drained of color.
“No,” Richard repeated. “Not here.”
Simone turned sharply.
“Dad?”
Richard stared at Gabriel.
Not with confusion.
Recognition.
That disturbed Simone more than Gabriel’s announcement.
“You two know each other?”
Neither man answered.
Celeste recovered first.
She laughed too loudly.
“This is absurd.”
“Is it?” Gabriel asked.
“Yes.” She pointed toward Simone again. “You barely know her.”
Gabriel’s expression did not change.
“You seem very certain.”
“I am.”
“Then you haven’t been paying attention.”
Simone pulled farther away.
“Stop.”
Gabriel looked at her immediately.
She hated how the room watched.
Hated that humiliation had turned into spectacle.
Hated that her sister looked frightened but she had no idea why.
Most of all, she hated the tremor in her own voice.
“You cannot walk into my sister’s wedding, help me off the floor, and announce that I’m going to marry you.”
“No,” Gabriel said.
Simone blinked.
“No?”
“I can’t expect you to believe it without an explanation.”
Celeste stepped forward.
“There is nothing to explain.”
Gabriel glanced at her.
“That sentence seems important to you.”
Richard wheeled himself backward from the table.
“Gabriel.”
This time it sounded like a warning.
Gabriel’s eyes shifted toward the wheelchair.
Then toward the silver identification plate under the left armrest.
Simone noticed the change in his face.
Small.
Almost invisible.
“What is it?” she asked.
Gabriel walked to Richard.
He crouched beside the chair.
Richard grabbed his wrist.
“Leave it alone.”
Gabriel gently removed his hand.
Simone stepped closer.
Two initials had been scratched into the metal.
S.B.
A line.
G.M.
Her pulse stumbled.
“What does that mean?”
Richard stared at the floor.
Celeste spoke quickly.
“Probably nothing.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“You know what it means.”
“I don’t.”
“You pulled Simone’s chair away less than ten minutes after I entered the ballroom.”
Celeste folded her arms.
“That has nothing to do with you.”
“Doesn’t it?”
Preston moved closer to Celeste.
“Maybe everyone should calm down.”
Gabriel ignored him.
He looked at Simone.
“Did your father ask you to come tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Did Celeste want you here?”
“No.”
“Did you receive any documents from your father recently?”
Simone frowned.
“What documents?”
Richard closed his eyes.
That was answer enough.
“Dad?”
“Not here,” he whispered.
Celeste snapped, “There are no documents.”
Simone turned.
“How would you know what I’ve received?”
Celeste’s mouth opened.
No words came.
For the first time that evening, Simone saw something behind her sister’s anger.
Calculation.
Gabriel saw it too.
“What’s in the bridal suite?” he asked.
Celeste’s shoulders stiffened.
“Nothing.”
Gabriel checked his watch.
“Then you won’t mind if Simone sees it.”
“You cannot search my room!”
“I didn’t say I would.”
His gaze shifted to Simone.
“She will.”
Simone almost laughed from disbelief.
“I’m not searching anybody’s room.”
Richard suddenly struck the wheelchair armrest.
“Simone.”
Everyone turned.
His breathing had become shallow.
There was fear in his eyes.
Real fear.
“Go with him.”
Simone froze.
“What?”
“Go upstairs.”
Celeste rushed toward him.
“Dad, you’re confused.”
“I am not confused.”
She stopped.
Richard looked at Simone.
“I should have told you years ago.”
Celeste whispered, “Don’t.”
Richard ignored her.
“I thought silence would keep this family together.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened.
“It usually does the opposite.”
Richard nodded once.
Tears gathered in the old man’s eyes.
“Your mother made me promise.”
Simone’s chest tightened.
Their mother, Eleanor, had been dead for eleven years.
“Promise what?”
Richard looked toward Gabriel.
Gabriel gave him no help.
Celeste suddenly reached for Simone’s arm.
“You need to leave.”
Simone pulled away.
“Stop telling me to leave.”
“You don’t understand what’s happening.”
“You threw me onto the floor.”
“I was angry.”
“You pulled my chair from behind me.”
Celeste’s eyes flashed.
“And you have spent your entire life taking things that belonged to me.”
Simone stared at her.
“What have I ever taken from you?”
Celeste’s face twisted.
“Our father’s sympathy.”
“Celeste—”
“Mom’s attention.”
“That isn’t true.”
“The company.”
Simone went still.
“What company?”
The ballroom became silent again.
Celeste realized too late what she had said.
Richard lowered his head.
Gabriel looked toward Preston.
And Preston quietly stepped backward.
Simone saw it.
“Why did he move?”
Gabriel’s eyes stayed on Preston.
“Because he knows.”
“Knows what?”
Preston cleared his throat.
“This is getting ridiculous.”
Gabriel took one step toward him.
Preston stopped.
“Then explain it.”
“I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“No,” Gabriel said. “You owe Simone one.”
Simone stared at the people around her.
Her father.
Her sister.
Her new brother-in-law.
Gabriel Moretti.
They all knew something.
Something about her.
Something big enough that Celeste had humiliated her publicly rather than risk whatever was supposed to happen tonight.
“Dad,” Simone said. “Tell me.”
Richard looked at her.
“I can’t do it here.”
“Why?”
“Because your sister’s marriage may not be the only thing ending tonight.”
Celeste’s expression shattered.
“Dad!”
Richard pointed toward the ballroom exit.
“Take Simone upstairs.”
Gabriel moved beside her.
Simone did not follow.
“What exactly am I supposed to find?”
Richard’s voice dropped.
“Your mother’s blue box.”
Celeste lunged for the wheelchair.
“No!”
Guests jumped.
Gabriel caught Celeste’s wrist before she reached Richard.
He did not squeeze.
He simply stopped her.
Her breathing turned ragged.
“Let go of me.”
“When you calm down.”
“Let go!”
Gabriel released her immediately.
She stumbled backward.
Simone stared at her sister.
“Why are you afraid of a box?”
Celeste said nothing.
Gabriel looked toward the elevators.
“Come with me.”
Simone should have refused.
She should have walked out.
Instead she looked down at the scattered glass where she had fallen.
Something had changed when she hit that floor.
For years, she had absorbed every insult because fighting back seemed crueler than leaving.
Tonight, leaving suddenly felt like surrender.
She lifted her chin.
“Show me where.”
Gabriel led her toward the private elevator.
Behind them, Celeste shouted for security.
Nobody moved.
The elevator doors opened.
Simone stepped inside with Gabriel.
Just before they closed, Richard called after her.
“Simone!”
She turned.
Her father looked terrified.
“If there’s a photograph inside the box, don’t believe what’s written on the front.”
The doors slid together.
Simone looked at Gabriel.
“What photograph?”
He did not answer.
The elevator climbed.
Fourth floor.
Fifth.
Sixth.
The doors opened into a quiet corridor.
At the far end stood the bridal suite.
Simone approached.
She reached for the handle.
It moved before she touched it.
May you like
The door was already opening from the inside.
Someone was waiting for her.
