Chapter 16 - The Study Doors Close
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The wedding ceremony was supposed to begin in twenty minutes. The grand ballroom was packed with the city's elite, waiting for the dramatic entrance of the bride and groom.
Instead, I walked into the bridal suite.
Vivien was standing in front of the massive antique mirror, admiring her reflection in the breathtaking white silk dress. She looked absolutely perfect. A flawless, lethal illusion.
"Lorenzo, darling!" Vivien gasped, turning around with a bright, manufactured smile. "You aren't supposed to see me before the altar! It's bad luck!"
"I don't believe in luck, Vivien," I said softly, stepping into the room and closing the heavy double doors behind me, locking the deadbolt with a loud, definitive click.
Vivien’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. She sensed the sudden, drastic shift in the atmosphere. The charming, oblivious fiancé was gone. The apex predator was standing in her dressing room.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly as she took a step back, her heavy skirts rustling against the hardwood floor.
"I have a wedding gift for you," I said, walking slowly toward her. I reached into my tuxedo pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.
Relief flooded her features, masking the panic. She thought I was simply being eccentric. "Oh, Lorenzo, you shouldn't have."
I opened the box.
Inside was not a diamond necklace or a pair of earrings. It was a single, cheap, burner cell phone. The exact phone she used to communicate with Carlo.
Vivien froze. The color drained completely from her beautiful face, leaving her looking like a porcelain doll.
"I listened to the recordings, Vivien," I whispered, my voice dropping to a terrifying, lethal pitch. "I heard you plotting with Carlo. I tracked the money you stole from my charities. I watched you leave the gate open so a three-year-old child would fall to her death."
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"Lorenzo, please," Vivien choked out, stumbling backward until her spine hit the heavy mirror. "It's a mistake! Someone is setting me up!"
"I also know about the poison," I continued smoothly, ignoring her pathetic lies entirely. "The untraceable neurotoxin you plan to slip into my champagne during the toast."
