Chapter 2 - The Photograph That Should Not Exist
I stared at the photograph on my phone.
My fingers stopped moving.
My breathing stopped with them.
Because the picture was not from years ago.
It was not an old memory.
It was not something someone had found buried in a forgotten drawer.
The timestamp was from seven minutes earlier.
Seven minutes.
The photo showed the bridal suite.
The same room I had just left.
The same room where Damiano Vercelli had ordered my bag searched.
The same room where everyone watched me like I was a criminal.
But that was not what made my stomach tighten.
It was the person standing behind him.
A man partially hidden near the mirror.
A man wearing a dark suit.
A man whose face was turned away from the camera.
But I recognized something.
The watch.
A silver watch with a small black mark across the center.
I had seen that watch before.
And I knew exactly who wore it.
I looked back toward the bridal suite door.
My first instinct was to walk back inside.
To throw the photograph onto the marble table.
To ask Damiano why someone had been watching him.
Why someone had secretly taken a picture of that moment.
Why someone had sent it to me.
But my hand froze.
Because suddenly, I understood something.
The missing ruby was not the only secret inside that room.
I walked down the hallway slowly.
My heels made quiet sounds against the polished floor.
Every step felt heavier.
I had spent years learning how to trust my instincts.
As a baker, instinct was everything.
You knew when dough needed more time.
You knew when sugar had reached the right temperature.
You knew when something looked perfect but was hiding a mistake underneath.
And right now, something was wrong.
Very wrong.
"Serena."
I stopped.
Mia stood behind me.
Her wedding dress flowed across the floor as she approached.
Her eyes were filled with guilt.
Not suspicion.
Guilt.
"I’m sorry."
Two words.
The same words I had been waiting to hear inside that room.
But now they felt different.
Because apologies after humiliation never erased the humiliation.
I put my phone away.
"For what?"
Mia looked down.
"For letting him do that."
I studied her face.
"You let him?"
She swallowed.
"Damiano gets obsessed when something important to him disappears."
I almost laughed.
Almost.
"Important to him?"
My voice remained calm.
That surprised her.
"The ruby is important," she whispered.
I looked toward the bridal suite.
"Apparently more important than trusting people."
Mia stepped closer.
"You don't understand."
"Then explain."
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
That told me everything.
There were things she knew.
Things she was afraid to say.
"Mia."
Her eyes lifted.
"What happened to that ruby?"
Her face changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Fear.
Real fear.
Not the nervousness of a bride before walking down the aisle.
Something deeper.
Something older.
"I can't talk about it here."
That sentence made my heart beat faster.
Because innocent people usually said:
"I don't know."
Guilty people usually said:
"I didn't do it."
But scared people said:
"I can't talk about it."
Before I could answer, a voice came from behind us.
"Serena."
Damiano.
I turned around.
He was standing several feet away.
His expression was different now.
Not cold.
Not angry.
Careful.
Like he was looking at me differently.
"I need to speak with you."
I almost smiled.
"Now you need to speak with me?"
His jaw tightened.
"I know the search was unfair."
Unfair.
Not wrong.
Not humiliating.
Unfair.
The choice of words told me everything.
"You accused me in front of everyone."
"I was trying to protect my family."
"And I was the easiest person to blame."
Silence.
Damiano looked away for a moment.
That was the first time I saw him uncomfortable.
The man everyone feared suddenly looked like someone who knew he had crossed a line.
"I saw something."
I crossed my arms.
"What?"
He reached into his jacket.
For a second, I thought he was going to show me the missing ruby.
Instead, he pulled out his phone.
He showed me a security image.
A person walking through the wedding hall.
A woman.
Her face was hidden by a large hat.
But she carried something.
A small jewelry box.
My eyes narrowed.
"When was this?"
"Twenty minutes before the ruby disappeared."
"Who is she?"
Damiano looked at the image.
"I don't know."
That answer surprised me.
A man like Damiano Vercelli was supposed to know everything.
Everyone.
Every movement.
Every person entering his world.
But this woman had appeared without him knowing.
Then I noticed something.
The handbag.
Not mine.
The woman's handbag was yellow.
Almost identical to mine.
My stomach dropped.
"She wanted someone to see another yellow bag."
Damiano looked at me.
"What?"
I pointed at the screen.
"Think about it."
He watched me carefully.
"She didn't just steal something. She wanted suspicion to fall on someone."
His eyes moved toward my bag.
Toward me.
I saw the realization forming.
Slowly.
Painfully.
"She framed you."
I didn't answer.
Because that was obvious.
The question was why.
Why me?
Why would someone choose a baker they barely knew?
Unless...
They did know me.
A cold feeling moved through my body.
"Damiano."
He looked up.
"Why was my name mentioned before anyone searched me?"
His expression changed.
"What do you mean?"
"The moment the ruby disappeared, everyone looked at me."
I paused.
"That means someone already planted the idea."
Damiano became silent.
For the first time since I met him, he didn't look like the most powerful person in the room.
He looked like a man searching for an answer.
Then his phone rang.
He answered immediately.
"Yes."
The color slowly disappeared from his face.
I watched him listen.
Then he looked at me.
"Where?"
A pause.
"Don't touch anything."
He ended the call.
"What happened?"
Damiano hesitated.
"There was another discovery."
"What discovery?"
His eyes moved toward the hallway.
"The security room found footage."
I waited.
"And?"
His voice lowered.
"The person who took the ruby wasn't trying to escape."
A chill went through me.
"What was she doing?"
Damiano looked directly at me.
"She was trying to leave something behind."
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Mia walked toward us.
"Damiano?"
He turned.
"Mia, stay here."
But she didn't move.
"What did you find?"
Damiano looked at her.
Then at me.
"I don't know yet."
The way he said it bothered me.
Because Damiano Vercelli was a man who always knew what to do.
Always had control.
Always had answers.
But now he had none.
And somehow, I was standing in the middle of whatever this was.
The three of us walked toward the security room.
The guards stepped aside when Damiano arrived.
Inside, several monitors displayed different angles of the wedding venue.
One screen showed the bridal suite.
Another showed the hallway.
Another showed the entrance.
The security manager stood beside the desk.
His face was pale.
"Show us."
Damiano ordered.
The man pressed a button.
The footage began.
There I was.
Walking into the bridal suite with my yellow handbag.
Then Mia.
Then Damiano.
Then everyone else.
The missing ruby announcement.
The accusation.
The search.
Nothing unusual.
Until the footage rewound.
Ten minutes earlier.
The security manager zoomed in.
A woman entered the room.
The same woman from the photo.
She walked toward the table where the ruby had been placed.
But she didn't take it.
She looked around.
Then she placed something beside the jewelry box.
Something small.
Something dark.
I leaned closer.
"What is that?"
The security manager zoomed in.
The image became clearer.
A small black envelope.
My heart started beating faster.
Because I recognized the handwriting on the front.
I had seen it before.
Years ago.
On a letter I thought I had lost forever.
Damiano noticed my expression.
"You know that handwriting?"
I didn't answer.
Because my mind was already somewhere else.
Somewhere I had tried very hard to forget.
The security manager pressed another button.
The footage continued.
The woman left the room.
Then the screen froze.
The envelope remained beside the missing ruby.
Damiano looked at me.
"Serena."
My eyes stayed on the screen.
Because written on the envelope were three words.
My name.
And a message underneath.
"Open this when you are ready."
Damiano reached toward the keyboard.
But before he touched it, the security room lights suddenly went out.
Everyone froze.
A second later, a sound came from the hallway.
A door opening.
Slowly.
Someone whispered my name from the darkness.
May you like
"Serena..."
And the voice belonged to someone who was supposed to be dead.
