Chapter 3 - The Price of Bellamy Bridal
Dominic caught the handle before it moved.
“Step back.”
Elena obeyed.
“Who are you?” Dominic called.
No answer.
Vanessa whispered, “Please don’t hurt her.”
Dominic looked at Elena.
That sentence changed everything.
He opened the door.
Vanessa stood in the hallway, pale and crying.
Behind her was the silver-haired woman.
Up close, Elena saw the resemblance immediately.
Not to herself.
To her mother.
The woman had Margaret’s eyes.
“Elena,” she whispered.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Claire Bellamy.”
Elena’s knees nearly gave way.
Dominic placed a steady hand behind her.
Claire looked at him.
“You must be Dominic.”
“How do you know me?”
“Margaret told me.”
Elena’s throat tightened.
“My mother?”
Claire nodded.
“Where is she?”
Claire’s face broke.
“I don’t know.”
Elena stepped forward.
“You photographed me.”
“Yes.”
“You sent those messages.”
“The first photograph, yes.”
“And the threat?”
Claire frowned.
“What threat?”
Elena showed her.
YOU SHOULD NEVER HAVE COME BACK HERE.
Claire’s expression changed.
“I didn’t send that.”
Mason took the phone.
“Then someone else was watching.”
Claire entered the apartment.
Vanessa remained near the door.
Elena refused to look at her.
Claire sat at the table and placed a worn leather folder down.
“Your mother’s real name was Margaret Bellamy.”
Elena said nothing.
“Arthur Bellamy was your grandfather.”
The world seemed to tilt.
“He founded the store?”
“And six others. Most were sold. Chicago remained.”
“Why did my mother change her name?”
“Because she was running.”
“From whom?”
Claire looked toward Dominic.
“People who believed Bellamy belonged to them.”
Marla Bennett.
The name came immediately to Elena’s mind.
Claire opened the folder.
Inside were photographs.
Margaret as a young woman.
Margaret holding baby Elena.
Margaret standing inside Bellamy Bridal.
And Marla Bennett beside her.
“They were friends?” Elena asked.
“Once.”
Claire shook her head.
“More like sisters.”
Claire explained.
Arthur Bellamy had built his company from one alterations shop. Margaret was his only daughter. Claire was Arthur’s niece.
When Arthur died, Margaret inherited controlling interest.
Marla Bennett managed the Chicago store.
Then money disappeared.
Contracts were forged.
Margaret discovered someone had been draining the company.
Before she could expose them, threats began.
One night, someone broke into Margaret’s home while baby Elena slept upstairs.
Margaret disappeared from Chicago within forty-eight hours.
“She took you,” Claire said. “Changed your surname. Married Daniel Brooks three years later.”
“My father knew?”
“Yes.”
Elena’s eyes filled.
Daniel Brooks had died believing every secret should eventually become a truth.
Yet he had never told her this one.
“Why?”
“Because Margaret made him promise.”
“And then she abandoned me anyway.”
Claire lowered her gaze.
“When you were sixteen.”
“Yes.”
“She didn’t abandon you.”
Elena laughed bitterly.
“I remember the empty closet.”
“She left because the threats started again.”
Elena stopped.
“What?”
“Someone found you.”
Vanessa began crying harder.
Elena finally turned toward her.
“How are you involved?”
Vanessa wiped her face.
“My mother worked for Marla.”
Elena stared.
“Since when?”
“Before we met.”
The betrayal landed slowly.
“You knew who I was in college?”
“No. I swear.”
“When did you know?”
“Three months ago.”
“How?”
“Marla contacted me.”
“Why?”
“She knew I was your maid of honor.”
Dominic’s expression hardened.
“What did she want?”
“To keep Elena away from Bellamy.”
Elena remembered the appointment.
“You recommended Bellamy.”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why would you do that if she wanted me away?”
“Because Claire contacted me too.”
Claire looked ashamed.
“I needed Elena inside the building.”
“For what?”
“The trust.”
Claire explained that Arthur’s trust contained an unusual condition.
Elena’s claim to Bellamy Holdings required her to enter the original Chicago premises after turning thirty and formally identify herself before a trustee.
“That is insane,” Elena said.
“It was designed before digital identity systems. Arthur was paranoid.”
“So today was some kind of inheritance ritual?”
“Not exactly.”
Claire reached into her bag.
She removed a brass key.
It resembled the key from the video prompt—but older, darker, real.
“This opens Arthur’s private office upstairs.”
Elena remembered the woman in the window.
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you come downstairs?”
“Because Marla arrived unexpectedly.”
Dominic folded his arms.
“Why would Marla humiliate Elena instead of simply refusing service?”
Claire looked at him.
“To make sure she never returned.”
Elena felt sick.
Candace’s cruelty had not been spontaneous.
Her appointment had not been an error.
Someone had orchestrated the entire thing.
Dominic’s phone rang.
Samuel.
He answered.
“I have the acquisition terms,” Samuel said.
“Acquisition?” Elena snapped.
Dominic ignored the look.
Samuel continued.
“Marla’s forty-nine percent can be purchased through the lender. She defaulted on a major loan ninety days ago.”
“How much?”
Samuel named a figure.
Elena nearly choked.
Dominic did not react.
“Do it.”
“No.”
Everyone looked at Elena.
Dominic lowered the phone.
“Elena.”
“No.”
“She publicly humiliated you to prevent you from claiming something that may legally belong to you.”
“Then we prove it legally.”
“She controls forty-nine percent.”
“And apparently I control fifty-one.”
“If the trust is valid.”
“It is,” Claire said.
Dominic looked at Elena.
“What do you want?”
That mattered.
He could have bought Marla’s interest without asking.
Instead, he asked.
Elena looked at the pearl button.
E.B.
Then at Claire.
“Who scratched my initials onto this?”
Claire went pale.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“I sewed it onto that gown this morning.”
“What?”
“That dress belonged to your mother.”
Elena stopped breathing.
Claire explained that Margaret had designed it before fleeing Chicago. The original had been preserved upstairs for decades and recently moved downstairs by mistake.
Candace had not known.
Marla had.
That was why she panicked when Elena touched it.
Elena’s humiliation suddenly became something else.
The gown had belonged to her mother.
Marla had ripped it away.
“Buy her shares,” Elena said.
Dominic watched her.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Samuel spoke through the phone.
“I can have preliminary documents tonight.”
Elena looked at Dominic.
“But not for you.”
His brow lifted.
“What?”
“You buy them for me.”
Something like pride appeared in his eyes.
“And I pay you back.”
“Elena—”
“Every dollar.”
“At what interest?”
“Don’t push it.”
His mouth curved.
“Deal.”
Vanessa exhaled.
Elena looked at her.
“We’re not okay.”
“I know.”
“You lied to me.”
“I know.”
“But you’re going to help me understand why.”
Vanessa nodded.
“Yes.”
That night, Samuel prepared the purchase.
At 11:47 p.m., Marla Bennett lost control of her forty-nine percent interest.
At 11:52, Elena Brooks became the effective controlling owner of Bellamy Bridal, subject to verification of the trust.
Dominic placed the antique brass key in Elena’s hand.
“Tomorrow,” he said, “you walk back through that door.”
Elena stared at it.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
“I’m walking through tonight.”
Bellamy Bridal was dark when they arrived.
Claire unlocked the side entrance.
Mason checked the building.
Empty.
They climbed the marble staircase.
At the end of the upper hallway stood a narrow white door.
Arthur Bellamy’s office.
Elena inserted the key.
It turned.
Inside sat an old desk, filing cabinets, sketches, photographs.
And one wedding gown covered in protective cloth.
Elena approached the desk.
A sealed envelope waited in the center.
Her name was written across it.
ELENA.
She opened it.
Inside was a single note.
If you are reading this, Marla failed to keep you away.
Elena’s blood went cold.
Below it was another sentence.
Do not trust Claire.
Elena slowly lifted her eyes.
May you like
Claire was standing in the doorway.
And she was holding something behind her back...
