Chapter 2 - THE LOCKED DOORThe click of the deadbolt was almost delicate.
That was what frightened me.
Brandon didn’t slam the door.
He didn’t shout.
He simply turned the lock and slipped the key into the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket.
Then he looked at all of us as if we were the ones behaving irrationally.
“Everybody needs to calm down.”
My mother stepped behind me.
Paige backed toward the window.
Derek stared at the carpet.
I looked at the man I had loved for four years and realized I had never seen him clearly before.
“Unlock the door.”
Brandon spread his hands.
“Naomi, we need five minutes without people charging in here and turning this into a circus.”
“You locked us inside.”
“To talk.”
“You don’t imprison people to talk.”
His mouth tightened.
“I am trying to keep you from making a decision you will regret for the rest of your life.”
I held up the papers.
“You mean the decision not to hand you my father’s company?”
His eyes flicked toward Mom.
That look lasted less than a second.
But she saw it too.
“You knew I found them,” she whispered.
Brandon didn’t answer.
Mom’s voice grew stronger.
“That’s why you sent me to Celeste.”
“I sent you there because you needed your hair done.”
“You insisted.”
“For my wedding.”
“My appointment was at another salon.”
“Celeste is better.”
“She gave me tea that made me dizzy.”
“That is an accusation.”
“It is a fact.”
Brandon laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“You’re seventy-one, Miriam. Maybe you forgot to eat breakfast.”
Mom straightened.
She was sixty-three.
Brandon knew that.
The insult was deliberate.
He wanted to make her sound confused.
Old.
Unreliable.
I suddenly remembered dozens of little comments from the past year.
Miriam gets mixed up when she’s tired.
Your mother worries too much.
She misunderstood the accountant.
She probably misplaced the papers.
Each one had seemed harmless alone.
Together they formed a pattern.
“You’ve been setting this up,” I said.
Brandon frowned.
“Setting what up?”
“Making people think Mom is losing her memory.”
He stared at me.
Paige covered her mouth.
I turned.
“You noticed too?”
She nodded slowly.
“Last Christmas, Brandon told Dad that Miriam asked him the same question six times.”
Mom looked confused.
“I didn’t.”
“I know,” Paige whispered.
“I was sitting there.”
Brandon snapped, “This is insane.”
“No,” I said. “It’s organized.”
Derek finally spoke.
“Brandon, just give her the key.”
Brandon turned on him.
“You should stay out of this.”
“You brought me into it.”
That caught my attention.
“How?”
Derek rubbed both hands over his face.
“I thought this was only about getting signatures.”
My stomach clenched.
“What signatures?”
He glanced at Brandon.
“Tell her,” Brandon warned, “and you’re finished.”
Derek gave a bitter laugh.
“I think we’re already finished.”
He looked at me.
“About eight months ago Brandon asked me to witness a document. He said it was a routine amendment to your family trust.”
“You witnessed my signature?”
“I witnessed a signature. You weren’t there.”
My skin went cold.
Derek continued quickly.
“He told me your lawyer had approved everything and you’d signed separately. I didn’t think—”
“No. You didn’t.”
“I know.”
“How much did he pay you?”
Derek flinched.
“Twenty thousand.”
Mom whispered, “My God.”
Brandon stepped forward.
“That money was repayment for a loan.”
Derek looked at him.
“It came from Bellweather.”
Brandon’s face hardened.
I reached for my phone.
He moved faster.
He grabbed my wrist.
“Give me that.”
I yanked away.
“Touch me again and I scream.”
“We’re in a hotel suite surrounded by hundreds of our guests. Do you really think I’m going to hurt you?”
“You locked the door.”
His nostrils flared.
Then someone knocked.
“Naomi?”
My maid of honor, Rachel.
I shouted, “Call security!”
Brandon seized the phone from my hand and threw it onto the bed.
Rachel knocked harder.
“Naomi?”
Brandon lowered his voice.
“You are about to destroy both our families because your mother found photocopies she doesn’t understand.”
Mom suddenly spoke.
“They aren’t the only copies.”
Brandon went still.
She looked directly at him.
“I mailed the originals to someone yesterday.”
I turned toward her.
“To whom?”
“My attorney.”
Brandon smiled.
Too quickly.
“You don’t have an attorney.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Who?”
Mom didn’t answer.
The pounding at the door intensified.
“Hotel security!” a man shouted. “Open the door.”
Brandon looked toward the entrance.
His calculations were visible now.
He could no longer control the room.
He pulled out the key.
Before he reached the lock, Paige said quietly, “What happened at Celeste’s salon wasn’t an accident.”
Everyone looked at her.
Brandon closed his eyes.
“Paige.”
She stepped away from him.
“I heard the whole conversation last night.”
“Stop.”
“You told Celeste to scare Miriam.”
Mom gripped the back of a chair.
Paige was crying openly now.
“You said, ‘If she comes to that wedding waving papers around, everything falls apart.’ Celeste said she wouldn’t hurt her. You said you didn’t care what she did as long as Miriam stayed quiet until after the ceremony.”
Brandon’s expression changed from anger to something colder.
“You’ve always been dramatic.”
“You threatened me too.”
“What?”
“You said Dad would cut me off if I interfered.”
Security knocked again.
I stared at Brandon.
“Did you tell Celeste to drug my mother?”
“No.”
“Did you tell her to cut her hair?”
“No.”
“Did you tell her to stop Mom from reaching me?”
“No.”
Every answer came instantly.
Rehearsed.
Then Mom touched my arm.
“There was another woman at the salon.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. She worked in the back. Young. Dark hair.”
“What about her?”
“She saw Celeste put something in my tea.”
My heart jumped.
“Did she say anything?”
“She tried.”
Mom’s eyes filled again.
“But Celeste sent her home.”
A crash sounded from the hallway.
Security had begun forcing the door.
Brandon unlocked it.
Two hotel security officers entered with Rachel and my uncle Thomas behind them.
“What’s happening?” the older guard demanded.
I pointed at Brandon.
“He locked us inside.”
Brandon laughed incredulously.
“We were having a private family disagreement.”
“Give me your key,” the guard said.
Brandon handed it over.
I immediately crossed the room and retrieved my phone.
Thirty-seven missed calls.
Most from vendors and relatives.
One number I didn’t recognize had called six times.
Then a text appeared.
PLEASE DON’T MARRY BRANDON VALE.
I froze.
Another message arrived.
I WORK AT MAISON CELESTE.
I SAW WHAT SHE PUT IN YOUR MOM’S CUP.
A third followed.
AND THAT ISN’T THE WORST THING I SAW.
I looked up at Mom.
“Your witness just found me.”
Brandon’s face changed.
I typed one sentence.
WHERE ARE YOU?
The reply came seconds later.
PARKING GARAGE. LEVEL THREE. I’M SCARED.
I started toward the door.
Rachel grabbed my arm.
“You’re still in your wedding dress.”
“I don’t care.”
Brandon stepped into my path.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
This time, four people moved between us.
Security.
Rachel.
Uncle Thomas.
And surprisingly, Derek.
I walked out.
Mom came with me.
The elevator ride felt endless.
Guests stared as the doors opened onto the lobby.
People began whispering.
The orchestra downstairs was still playing.
My giant portrait stood beside the ballroom entrance.
NAOMI & BRANDON — FOREVER BEGINS TODAY.
Not anymore.
We reached the garage.
Level three was almost empty.
Then a young woman stepped from behind a concrete pillar.
She looked about twenty-two.
Black salon uniform.
Mascara streaked under both eyes.
“My name is Lily Chen,” she said.
“I’m an assistant at Celeste’s.”
Mom recognized her immediately.
“That’s her.”
Lily looked at Mom’s hair and burst into tears.
“I’m so sorry.”
I stepped closer.
“What did you see?”
She pulled out her phone.
“I recorded part of it.”
Brandon appeared behind us.
He had somehow gotten past security.
“Don’t,” he said.
Lily recoiled.
I turned.
Brandon wasn’t alone.
His father, Richard Vale, stood beside him.
Richard was sixty-eight, silver-haired, polished, and terrifyingly calm.
He looked at the ruined wedding dress train dragging across the garage floor.
Then at Lily.
Then at the papers in my hand.
He exhaled slowly.
“Naomi,” he said, “whatever you think you discovered, you do not understand the consequences.”
I held my phone tighter.
“Try me.”
Richard looked toward my mother.
“I warned your husband years ago that Miriam was too curious.”
Mom stopped breathing.
My father had been dead six years.
Richard smiled faintly.
May you like
And that was the moment I realized the secret had not begun with Brandon.
It had begun with my father.
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