Chapter 9 - THE WEDDING THAT COULDN’T BE CANCELED
By eight the next morning, Luca Moretti’s wedding had become the most dangerous party in New York.
And almost nobody invited knew it.
That was the strangest part.
Outside the Moretti Grand, florists carried white roses through revolving doors.
Photographers tested lighting.
Caterers rolled silver carts into kitchens.
A string quartet rehearsed in the ballroom.
Guests posted photographs of designer dresses and black cars.
To the city, it was still the wedding of the year.
Inside Luca’s private security suite, thirty monitors displayed every corridor.
Marco stood before them.
“No public cancellation.”
I stared.
“Your father literally said Enzo might burn the building.”
Andrew Ward stood across the room.
I still couldn’t bring myself to call him Dad.
“We cancel publicly, Enzo moves the hostages,” he said.
“Then evacuate secretly.”
“Eight hundred guests cannot secretly disappear.”
Vivien sat near the window.
She had not slept either.
Her wedding dress hung untouched behind her.
She looked at Luca.
“We could tell everyone there’s a gas leak.”
“And Enzo would know we found out,” Marco said.
“Then what?”
Luca finally spoke.
“We reduce attendance.”
“How?”
“Security alert. Anonymous threat. Enough people will stay home.”
Marco nodded.
“We can cut it by half without revealing specifics.”
“Staff?”
“Essential only.”
I looked at Luca.
“You’re still standing at the altar.”
“Yes.”
Vivien laughed quietly.
Everyone turned.
“What?” Luca asked.
She shook her head.
“This wedding was fake before we even knew someone was trying to kill us.”
Pain flashed across her face.
“I was marrying you because our families liked the alliance. You were marrying me because it stabilized three businesses.”
Luca didn’t deny it.
She stood.
“And now we’re going through with it because a criminal expects us to.”
“No,” Luca said.
She looked at him.
“We are going through with the appearance of it because your sister is inside this building.”
Vivien’s eyes filled.
For the first time, she nodded without argument.
I studied the dress.
Vivien noticed.
“What?”
“Has anyone touched that since yesterday?”
“No.”
“Who brought it?”
“Your atelier.”
Bastion entered the room just in time to hear.
He looked horrified.
“I didn’t.”
“Then who did?” I asked.
“Delivery team.”
I walked to the gown.
Vivien stepped aside.
It was extravagant.
Ivory silk.
Hand-beaded bodice.
Long train.
Thousands of tiny crystals.
I checked the hem.
Clean.
Sleeves.
Clean.
Bodice.
Then I found it.
Inside the waist seam.
One red stitch.
Vivien whispered, “No.”
I opened it.
A folded note slipped out.
Luca took it.
BRIDE WEARS THIS DRESS.
SEAMSTRESS REMAINS WITH BRIDE.
GROOM LEAVES NORTH EXIT AT 11:40.
ANY DEVIATION COSTS TWO LIVES.
Vivien sat down.
“They’re watching everything.”
“Not everything,” I said.
Luca looked at me.
“What?”
“If they were watching everything, they wouldn’t need instructions sewn into clothing.”
Andrew nodded slowly.
“She’s right.”
“They have gaps.”
Marco leaned closer.
“Where?”
I thought about the hidden camera in the penthouse.
The photographs.
The wedding garments.
Everything Enzo used depended on clothing, staff access, and predictable movement.
He knew human routines.
But he wasn’t omniscient.
“The bridal salon.”
Andrew stared.
“What about it?”
“Your ledger is above the ceiling.”
“Yes.”
“If Enzo knew exactly where, he wouldn’t need me.”
“Correct.”
“He needs me beside Vivien because he expects me to go there.”
Luca understood.
“The note is directing you to the room containing the ledger.”
“Yes.”
Marco frowned.
“So he plans to follow her.”
“Or watch who she leads.”
I looked at Andrew.
“Can the ledger be removed without opening the silk panels?”
“No.”
“Would cutting the wrong one be obvious?”
“Very.”
A plan began forming.
Dangerous.
Ridiculous.
Possibly our only option.
“We give him what he expects.”
Luca immediately said, “No.”
I ignored him.
“Vivien wears the gown. I stay with her.”
“No,” Luca repeated.
“We enter the bridal salon before the ceremony.”
“Elena.”
“I open a panel.”
“The correct one?”
“No.”
Andrew’s eyes sharpened.
“A decoy.”
I nodded.
“We make it look like we found something.”
Marco understood.
“Draw Enzo out.”
“Yes.”
Luca hated it.
I could see it.
“You’re asking me to use you as bait.”
“I’m not asking.”
“That is not reassuring.”
Vivien stood.
“I’ll do it.”
Luca turned.
“No.”
“She’s doing it because of my sister.”
Vivien looked at me.
“I should be there.”
I realized something had changed between us.
Twenty-four hours ago, she had mocked me for hemming trousers.
Now she was volunteering to stand beside me in a trap.
Drama has a strange way of stripping people down to whatever is real beneath the expensive fabric.
“Fine,” I said. “But you follow instructions.”
She almost smiled.
“From the seamstress?”
“Especially from the seamstress.”
At three in the afternoon, guests began arriving.
By four, social media filled with photographs of the Moretti Grand.
By five, security estimated attendance had dropped to three hundred and twelve.
Still too many.
But better than eight hundred.
At six, I dressed Vivien.
She stood before the mirror in ivory silk.
For the first time since I met her, she looked young.
Not glamorous.
Not cruel.
Just tired.
“Elena.”
“Yes?”
“If we find Celeste…”
“When.”
She looked at me.
“When we find her.”
I fastened the final hook.
Vivien swallowed.
“I’m not marrying Luca.”
“I suspected.”
“He knows.”
“Does he?”
“He does now.”
I looked at her through the mirror.
“What changed?”
“Nothing.”
A sad smile.
“That’s the problem. There was never anything to change.”
She touched the diamond necklace.
“Our families decided this made sense.”
“That sounds romantic.”
“It sounded efficient.”
I almost laughed.
She met my eyes.
“You like him.”
My hands stopped.
“No.”
“You do.”
“I have known him for one day.”
“That was not a denial.”
“It was absolutely a denial.”
“He watches you when you argue with him.”
“Probably because he’s considering murder.”
“He never watches anyone that long.”
I stepped back.
“You’re supposed to be nervous about your kidnapped sister.”
“I contain multitudes.”
Against my will, I laughed.
The bridal salon door opened.
Luca entered.
Vivien’s smile disappeared.
He wore a different suit.
Dark charcoal.
Simple.
I checked the cuffs automatically.
He noticed.
“This one is clean.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You inspected it.”
“Then yes.”
His eyes held mine a second too long.
Vivien noticed.
Of course she did.
“I need five minutes with Luca,” she said.
I moved toward the door.
“Elena stays,” Luca said.
Vivien raised one eyebrow.
“Interesting.”
Luca ignored her.
She removed the engagement ring.
Placed it on the vanity.
“I’m not marrying you.”
“I know.”
That startled both of us.
Vivien stared.
“How?”
“You only wear that ring when photographers are present.”
She looked at her bare hand.
“You noticed?”
“I notice most things.”
I muttered, “Not cuffs.”
He looked at me.
I looked innocent.
Vivien laughed.
A real one.
Then her eyes filled.
“Find my sister, Luca.”
“We will.”
“Afterward, our families can hate each other.”
“They already do.”
“Good.”
She wiped one tear before it damaged her makeup.
“Now let’s ruin Enzo’s evening.”
The decoy operation began at seven ten.
I climbed onto a narrow ladder in the bridal salon and examined the restored ceiling panels.
My father stood in the adjacent security room directing me through an earpiece.
“Third panel from the west molding.”
I whispered, “That’s the real one?”
“Yes.”
I moved to the fifth.
Then cut a small opening.
Marco’s team had placed a false packet behind it minutes earlier.
I removed the packet.
Vivien stood beneath me.
We made sure the room camera saw everything.
Then she whispered loudly enough for hidden surveillance to catch it.
“Is that it?”
I nodded.
“I think so.”
We waited.
Five minutes.
Nothing.
Ten.
Then Marco’s voice came through my earpiece.
“Movement. Service corridor B.”
My pulse jumped.
“Who?”
“Unknown male.”
Luca’s voice followed.
“Elena, leave.”
“No.”
“That was not the plan.”
“The plan requires him to see me carry the packet.”
Silence.
Then a muttered curse.
I smiled despite myself.
Vivien and I left the salon.
I carried the decoy inside my leather sewing case.
We entered the narrow service corridor.
At the far end stood a man in a waiter’s uniform.
He looked at us.
Then ran.
Security chased him.
I frowned.
Too easy.
“Luca.”
“What?”
“That’s another distraction.”
The lights went out.
Vivien grabbed my hand.
A door opened behind us.
Someone seized her.
She screamed.
I swung my sewing case blindly.
It struck something.
A man cursed.
Emergency lighting flickered on.
Two masked men dragged Vivien toward a freight elevator.
I grabbed her dress.
The silk ripped.
One man pulled a weapon.
Then Luca came around the corner.
Everything stopped.
He moved with terrifying speed.
Marco and his men followed.
The masked men released Vivien.
One ran.
The other was caught.
Vivien fell against me.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
Her dress was torn from waist to hip.
I stared at it.
Inside the ripped lining was another message.
Not sewn by Bastion.
Not by Enzo.
Handwritten directly onto the inner silk.
LOOK UP.
I lifted my head.
Above us, on the service balcony, stood Enzo.
Beside him were Celeste and Camille.
Alive.
And behind them stood my father.
A weapon pressed against his back.
Enzo smiled down at us.
“You always were good with patterns, Elena.”
Then he pushed a button.
Steel security doors slammed shut between Luca and us.
Vivien screamed.
I ran toward the barrier.
Too late.
Enzo’s voice came through the building speakers.
“Now that everyone is exactly where I need them…”
May you like
The ballroom doors locked.
“…we can finally begin the wedding.”
