Chapter 9 - Twenty Minutes Before I Do)
Preston smiled when he entered.
The golf club hung casually from one hand.
"Beautiful."
Giulietta stepped aside.
"You brought sports equipment to our wedding?"
He laughed.
"Long story."
She closed the door.
It locked automatically.
Preston noticed her wrist.
She wore the Hale diamond bracelet.
No transmitter.
At least none he could see.
His smile widened.
"That looks good on you."
"Celeste's?"
His face changed.
Only briefly.
"What?"
"The bracelet."
Giulietta held it up.
"Your mother's."
Preston recovered.
"My grandmother's."
"No."
Silence.
Giulietta walked to the vanity.
"Celeste recognized it."
Preston did not move.
"You spoke to my mother."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"She contacted me."
His face hardened.
"Of course she did."
"She told me what Warren did."
Preston laughed.
"My mother tells stories."
"She showed me records."
"Records can say anything."
"Medical records?"
"Especially medical records."
Giulietta looked at him through the mirror.
"Did you know your father drugged her?"
Preston's jaw tightened.
"He didn't."
"Were you there?"
"I was a kid."
"So you were."
"Giulietta."
"Did you tell doctors she was unstable?"
Preston's grip tightened around the golf club.
Giulietta saw it.
Outside the room, hidden security listened through the transmitter sewn beneath the lace at her waist.
Marco stood four seconds away.
Naomi beside him.
Celeste farther down the hall.
Preston placed the club against the sofa.
"My mom was sick."
"Your father made her sick."
"You don't know anything about my family."
"I know enough."
He walked toward her.
Giulietta stayed near the vanity.
"Then why are we still getting married?"
"We aren't."
Preston stopped.
For the first time, real surprise appeared.
"What?"
"There will be no marriage."
He stared at her.
Then he laughed.
"You've got three hundred people downstairs."
"They can eat the cake."
"You're nervous."
"No."
"You are."
"I've never been more certain."
Preston's smile disappeared.
"You don't cancel a Hale wedding twenty minutes before the ceremony."
"I just did."
He came closer.
"You think this is funny?"
"No."
"My father has senators downstairs."
"Then he won't be lonely."
"People flew across the country."
"They'll fly back."
"Giulietta."
She looked at him.
"You need to calm down."
There it was.
The phrase.
So soft.
So familiar.
The foundation of everything.
You need to calm down.
Giulietta slowly removed the engagement ring.
Preston stared.
"What are you doing?"
She placed it on the vanity.
"Giving you back the part you care about."
"Put it on."
"No."
"Giulietta."
"No."
His hand moved toward the club.
Marco's voice came quietly through Naomi's earpiece outside.
"Now."
Naomi stopped him.
"Wait."
Inside, Preston picked up the club.
Giulietta's heart beat harder.
He did not swing.
He simply held it.
"This belonged to my grandfather."
"Celeste says Warren used it."
His eyes narrowed.
"You've been talking to her too much."
"Apparently you haven't talked to her enough."
Preston stepped between Giulietta and the door.
Then he raised the club slightly.
Not striking.
Blocking.
And he said the sentence that removed the last fragment of doubt she had ever carried.
"My dad taught my mom obedience with this."
Giulietta looked at him.
Calm settled over her.
Not because she was unafraid.
Because the truth had finally stopped hiding.
She removed the ring she had already loosened and placed it carefully on the vanity.
"Then you picked the wrong wife, asshole."
Preston's face changed.
Every pleasant expression vanished.
He jerked the club higher.
Giulietta moved.
She struck his forearm with both hands.
The club slipped.
She drove her shoulder into him.
Metal hit carpet.
Preston cursed and reached for her.
Giulietta punched him hard across the face.
He staggered.
She kicked his stomach.
Preston fell backward beside the sofa.
Outside, Marco moved.
Naomi no longer stopped him.
Inside, Giulietta stepped toward the door.
Preston grabbed at her dress.
She pulled free.
Then someone struck the door from outside.
Warren.
"Open this door."
Giulietta stepped back.
Preston climbed onto the sofa.
The door rattled again.
The latch split.
Warren stormed inside.
His eyes went first to Preston.
Then to Giulietta.
Then to the club.
His face twisted.
"You are about to marry into my family, bitch."
Giulietta turned toward him.
The timing was almost perfect.
She looked past Warren.
Marco had stepped into the hallway.
Behind him stood Naomi.
Three Marconi cousins.
Two independent security officers.
And Celeste.
Giulietta smiled at Warren.
"No. Your son's the one marrying into mine."
Warren froze.
For three seconds nobody spoke.
Then Giulietta picked up the engagement ring.
Dropped it between father and son.
Marco entered.
Warren's face went white.
But the moment that had seemed like the ending downstairs was only the beginning.
Because Preston suddenly looked toward the hallway.
Saw his mother.
And shouted, "You."
Celeste stepped forward.
Preston stood.
"You're behind this?"
"No," Celeste said.
Her voice shook, but she did not retreat.
"You are."
Preston looked from Celeste to Giulietta.
Then to Marco.
Finally to Warren.
"Dad, tell them."
Warren said nothing.
"Tell them what?"
Still nothing.
Preston's face changed.
For the first time, Giulietta saw something even more dangerous than his anger.
Confusion.
Warren had apparently kept one secret from his own son.
Naomi opened her leather case.
Inside were copies of the Hale Capital debt records.
The forged medical report.
The trust proxy.
Patrick's statement.
And one document none of them had seen before that morning.
Naomi held it up.
"Preston, your father never intended you to control the Marconi trust."
Preston stared.
"What are you talking about?"
Warren finally moved.
"Don't listen to her."
Naomi continued.
"The emergency proxy transfers authority to Hale Strategic Holdings."
"So?"
"Your father owns one hundred percent of Hale Strategic Holdings."
Preston looked at Warren.
"Dad?"
Naomi's voice was merciless.
"You were never going to control Giulietta's assets."
Preston's face slowly drained.
"You were the husband Warren needed on the certificate."
Giulietta looked at Preston.
May you like
The groom had believed he was helping his father trap a bride.
He had never realized his father was also trapping him.
