Chapter 3 - The First Bride
The darkness lasted three seconds.
Three seconds was long enough for Clara to hear Adrian move in front of her.
Long enough for Marco to draw a weapon.
And long enough for someone outside the bedroom to run.
Fast footsteps struck the hallway.
"Stay behind me," Adrian ordered.
Emergency lights flashed red along the baseboards.
Marco was already at the door.
"Someone's on this floor."
He disappeared into the corridor.
Adrian reached for the strange phone inside Clara's suitcase, but Clara caught his sleeve.
"The message."
"I saw it."
"Bride number one."
"Later."
"Adrian—"
A crash echoed downstairs.
Then came a shout.
Adrian pushed Clara behind him and moved into the hallway.
She followed.
He stopped.
"I said stay."
"And I demonstrated earlier how well that works."
"This isn't funny."
"I know."
Another shout rose from below.
Marco's voice.
"East staircase!"
Adrian swore and grabbed Clara's hand.
"If you refuse to stay, you stay with me."
"Deal."
They moved quickly.
The mansion had transformed from luxury estate to fortress. Security guards appeared at intersections. Doors locked electronically. Red emergency lighting painted the marble corridors.
At the staircase, Elena came running toward them.
"What happened?"
"Someone cut the main power."
"Backup?"
"Coming online."
Clara held up the mysterious phone.
"This was inside my suitcase."
Elena stopped.
"What?"
"Apparently my suitcase is becoming community property."
Adrian took the device.
"No passcode."
The screen still displayed the messages.
CLARA, ASK ADRIAN WHAT HAPPENED TO BRIDE NUMBER ONE.
SHE'S IN THE HOUSE.
Elena read them.
Her face drained of color.
Clara saw it.
"You know."
Elena looked at Adrian.
"Don't."
That single word told Clara everything she needed to know.
"There really was a first bride."
"Clara," Adrian said.
"And something happened to her."
"Not here."
"Why? Because your walls might hear us?"
A gunshot cracked somewhere outside.
Clara jumped.
Adrian instantly pulled her against him.
His arm surrounded her shoulders.
The gesture was automatic.
Protective.
For one absurd second, Clara became aware of how easily he could shield almost her entire body with his.
Then Marco's voice came through Adrian's radio.
"False alarm. Guard fired at movement near the east gate. No target."
Adrian pressed the radio.
"No more shooting unless identified."
"Understood."
The lights returned.
Warm chandelier light flooded the staircase.
Clara blinked.
And noticed something on the marble landing below.
A woman's shoe.
Black.
Small.
Abandoned beside the railing.
"Was that there before?"
Elena followed her gaze.
"No."
Adrian immediately stepped downward.
"Don't touch it," Clara said.
He stopped.
Marco returned with two guards.
He saw the shoe.
"Seal the staircase."
One guard photographed it.
Marco crouched without touching it.
"There's blood."
Clara's stomach tightened.
A dark red smear marked the inside heel.
"Fresh?"
"Looks like it."
Adrian looked upward.
"Search every room."
Marco stood.
"We already started."
"Again."
Clara remembered the message.
SHE'S IN THE HOUSE.
"Madeline?"
Nobody answered.
The possibility was insane.
A woman missing eleven months suddenly appearing on security footage three nights ago.
Now blood inside the mansion.
Clara looked at Adrian.
"Tell me about bride number one."
His expression closed.
That irritated her more than anger would have.
"If someone is using these women to frighten me, I need to understand why."
"You don't need to understand anything. You need protection."
"Those aren't mutually exclusive."
"Clara."
"Adrian."
Elena rubbed her forehead.
"You two aren't even married and I'm already exhausted."
Clara pointed toward the phone.
"Someone specifically told me to ask."
"Which is exactly why you shouldn't," Adrian replied.
"That makes absolutely no sense."
"It makes perfect sense. Whoever sent this is controlling the conversation."
"Then surprise them. Tell me the truth."
Adrian went silent.
Clara waited.
Finally Elena spoke.
"Her name was Sophia Bell."
Adrian looked sharply at his cousin.
"She deserves to know."
"Not like this."
"There may not be another way."
Clara lowered her voice.
"What happened to Sophia?"
Elena glanced toward the guards.
"Somewhere private."
They went to Adrian's office.
Marco remained outside.
Adrian closed the door.
Clara sat across from his desk.
Adrian didn't sit.
Neither did Elena.
That worried her.
"Sophia Bell wasn't technically my bride," Adrian said.
"But she was supposed to be?"
"Yes."
"How long ago?"
"Four years."
That surprised Clara.
"And she rejected you?"
Adrian gave a humorless smile.
"Not exactly."
Elena continued.
"Sophia was the daughter of one of the Vale family's business partners. The engagement was arranged."
"Another contract."
"Different kind."
Clara looked at Adrian.
"Did you want to marry her?"
"No."
"Did she want to marry you?"
"No."
"Finally, something healthy."
Elena almost smiled.
Adrian didn't.
"We agreed we'd cancel the arrangement together."
Clara waited.
"But?"
"The night before our families were supposed to announce the engagement, Sophia came here."
"Here?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Adrian walked to the window.
"She was terrified."
"Of you?"
"No."
That answer changed everything.
"Of whom?"
"She wouldn't tell me."
Clara leaned forward.
"She came to you for help."
"Yes."
"What did she say?"
"That someone had been using the marriage arrangements to move money."
Clara frowned.
"What money?"
"I didn't know."
"Did you investigate?"
"I tried."
"And Sophia?"
Adrian turned.
"She left before morning."
"Then what?"
"Her car went off a mountain road."
Clara's breath caught.
"She died?"
"They found the car."
That wasn't an answer.
"But not her body."
"No."
Clara stood.
"So bride one disappeared."
"Yes."
"And bride three disappeared."
"Yes."
"Who was bride two?"
Silence.
Clara stared at them.
"Seriously?"
Elena sat down.
"Rachel Monroe."
"Where is she?"
"Alive."
Finally.
Clara exhaled.
"Can we speak to her?"
"No," Adrian said.
"Why not?"
"Because Rachel hasn't spoken to anyone connected to this family in two years."
"Maybe it's time."
"She lives under another name."
"Why?"
Adrian's phone rang.
Marco.
Adrian answered.
"What?"
His expression changed.
"Where?"
He listened.
"We're coming."
He ended the call.
"What happened?" Clara asked.
"They found someone."
Her heart jumped.
"Madeline?"
"We don't know."
They hurried downstairs.
Marco waited outside a service corridor near the kitchen.
A security guard stood beside an open storage room.
"She was here," Marco said.
"Was?" Adrian asked.
"When we opened the room, the window was open."
Inside, shelves lined the walls.
Flour.
Wine.
Cleaning supplies.
And on the floor—
blood.
Not much.
Several drops.
A torn strip of black fabric lay beside them.
Clara crouched.
"That looks like the coat Madeline wore in the security video."
Marco nodded.
"We think so."
"Then she's alive."
"We don't know whose blood this is."
Clara noticed something else.
A flour bag had been ripped open.
White powder covered part of the floor.
Footprints crossed it.
One set.
Small.
Female-sized.
They led toward the window.
Then Clara saw another mark.
Not footprints.
Letters.
Someone had traced words into the spilled flour with a finger.
HE LIED ABOUT SOPHIA.
Clara slowly stood.
Adrian had seen it.
His face became unreadable.
"What did you lie about?"
"Nothing."
"That's not what she says."
"We don't know who wrote it."
"Then tell me exactly what happened."
"I did."
Clara stepped toward him.
"No. You told me Sophia came here. You told me she was afraid. You told me her car crashed."
Adrian didn't move.
"You skipped something."
Elena looked at him.
That was enough.
Clara's chest tightened.
"What?"
Adrian's voice became quiet.
"Sophia didn't leave alone."
"Who was with her?"
"My younger brother."
Clara blinked.
"You have a brother?"
"Had."
That word chilled her.
"What happened to him?"
"His body was found in the car."
Silence.
Now Clara understood the guilt she'd seen earlier.
"You thought Sophia killed him?"
"No."
"But other people did."
"Yes."
"And because Sophia's body wasn't found—"
"Everyone assumed she survived."
"And disappeared."
Adrian nodded.
Clara looked at the message in the flour.
HE LIED ABOUT SOPHIA.
Maybe the lie wasn't what Adrian said.
Maybe it was what he'd omitted.
"Why was your brother driving her?"
"He was helping her escape."
"From whom?"
"I've spent four years trying to answer that."
A voice came from behind them.
"Mr. Vale."
Marco stood at the doorway.
"We reached the hospital."
"Grayson?"
"He's awake."
Clara straightened.
"Can he talk?"
"Yes."
Adrian immediately headed toward the hall.
Clara followed.
"No."
She nearly walked into his back.
"No?"
"You stay here."
"You cannot possibly still believe that's going to work."
"Clara—"
"Thomas brought me the altered contract."
"Exactly."
"Which means I need to hear what he says."
Adrian stared down at her.
Clara folded her arms.
"You can carry me back upstairs, but I'm warning you, I will be extremely annoying the entire way."
Marco looked away.
Elena suddenly became fascinated by the flour.
Adrian closed his eyes.
"Fine."
Clara smiled.
"But you stay beside me."
"Fine."
"You do exactly what I say."
"Let's not get unrealistic."
"Clara."
"Fine."
They left twenty minutes later in an armored SUV.
Clara sat beside Adrian.
Two security vehicles accompanied them.
The mountain road twisted through dark pine forest.
Clara watched Adrian's reflection in the window.
"You blame yourself."
He looked at her.
"For your brother."
His jaw tightened.
"You don't have to answer."
"Then why ask?"
"Because sometimes people need permission not to."
For several seconds, neither spoke.
"My brother's name was Luca."
Clara waited.
"He was twenty-six."
"I'm sorry."
"He believed everyone could be saved."
"That doesn't sound like a terrible quality."
"In our world, it can be fatal."
Clara studied his face.
"You loved him."
"Yes."
That single word carried four years of grief.
Without thinking, Clara placed her hand over his.
Adrian looked down.
She nearly removed it.
Then his fingers turned beneath hers.
He held her hand.
No contract.
No performance.
No witnesses that mattered.
Just warmth.
The hospital appeared ahead.
Thomas Grayson occupied a private room guarded by two police officers and three of Adrian's men.
His face was bruised.
One arm was bandaged.
When Clara entered, his eyes widened.
"You shouldn't be here."
"People keep telling me that."
Thomas looked at Adrian.
"You brought her?"
"She insisted."
"Of course she did."
Clara moved closer.
"Who altered my contract?"
Thomas looked toward the door.
"Clara, listen carefully."
"Okay."
"You need to leave the Vale estate."
"Why?"
"Tonight."
"Thomas."
"Don't marry him."
Adrian's expression remained controlled.
Clara noticed how difficult that control was becoming.
"Why?"
Thomas swallowed.
"Because your father's debt wasn't sold by accident."
Clara froze.
"What?"
"Someone selected you."
The room seemed to tilt.
"Selected me for what?"
Thomas looked terrified.
"The marriage."
Clara's mouth went dry.
"You told me Adrian needed a wife."
"He did."
"You told me you found me because of the debt."
"That part was true."
"But?"
"Your debt was purchased six months ago."
"So?"
"Your father's loan wasn't with the company that supposedly sold it."
Clara felt cold.
"I don't understand."
"It was transferred through three shell companies until it landed with a lender connected to the Vale family."
Adrian stepped closer.
"Which lender?"
Thomas whispered the name.
"Blackridge Holdings."
Adrian went completely still.
Elena, standing near the doorway, whispered, "That's impossible."
Clara looked between them.
"What is Blackridge?"
Adrian didn't answer.
Thomas did.
"The company Sophia Bell discovered four years ago."
Clara's heart pounded.
The missing first bride.
The altered contract.
Her father's debt.
They weren't separate.
Someone had been building this long before Clara arrived.
"Who owns it?" she asked.
Thomas's eyes filled with fear.
"On paper? Nobody. It's buried behind trusts."
"But you know."
"I know who signs the transfers."
Adrian leaned closer.
"Who?"
Thomas opened his mouth.
The hospital lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Thomas's monitor beeped faster.
A nurse's voice sounded outside.
Then a scream.
Marco drew his gun.
"Lock the room."
One of the guards slammed the door.
Clara backed toward Adrian.
Thomas struggled upright.
"They found me."
"Who?" Clara demanded.
Thomas grabbed her wrist.
His fingers were ice cold.
"Your father knew."
Clara stopped breathing.
"My father?"
"He didn't borrow that money to save the bakery."
"What are you talking about?"
"He was paying someone."
"For what?"
Thomas stared directly at her.
"To keep you hidden."
A violent bang struck the hospital-room door.
Everyone froze.
Another bang.
The handle moved.
Marco raised his weapon.
"Who's there?"
No answer.
Then Clara's phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
It had been taken seconds ago.
Clara standing beside Adrian in Thomas's hospital room.
Someone was watching them from inside the hospital.
Below the photograph was one sentence.
YOUR FATHER DIDN'T DIE IN THAT FIRE.
Clara stared at the screen.
Then someone knocked three times on the window behind her.
They were four floors above the ground.
Clara slowly turned.
May you like
A man's face appeared on the other side of the glass.
And he whispered her name.
