Chapter 2
I closed my fist around the memory card before Bianca could move.
Her eyes followed my hand.
That was enough.
“Everyone out,” I said.
No one moved.
Bianca lifted her chin.
“This is my bridal suite.”
I looked at my guards in the hallway.
“Out.”
This time, people moved.
Fast.
The bridesmaids slipped past me with pale faces.
The makeup artists grabbed their bags.
My mother tried to touch Livia, but my daughter clung harder to my leg.
Rosalie stayed.
I let her.
She was the only person in that room who had moved toward my child instead of freezing.
Bianca crossed her arms.
“You are humiliating me on our wedding day.”
I stared at her.
“You shaved my daughter’s head.”
“She grabbed my veil.”
“She is three.”
“She needs discipline.”
Livia whimpered behind me.
I felt the sound in my ribs.
I turned slightly and crouched.
“Livia, sweetheart, look at me.”
Her little face was wet.
Her eyes kept darting to Bianca.
“I’m here,” I said. “She will not touch you again.”
Bianca scoffed.
“Are you serious?”
I did not look at her.
“Rosalie, take Livia to my office. Lock the door. Call Dr. Vale to check her scalp.”
Rosalie nodded immediately.
Livia grabbed my shirt.
“No, Daddy.”
“I’ll be there soon.”
“She’s mad.”
“I know.”
“She said Mommy’s flower was ugly.”
My throat tightened.
Bianca rolled her eyes.
“She wears that cheap thing every day.”
I stood slowly.
Cheap.
That “cheap thing” was the last gift my wife, Elena, had picked for our daughter before the car explosion that took her life.
I looked at Bianca.
“How did you know something was inside the barrette?”
She blinked.
“What?”
I opened my hand just enough for her to see the memory card.
Her lips parted.
Then she recovered.
“I don’t know what that is.”
“You looked at it before I did.”
“You’re insane.”
Rosalie lifted Livia into her arms and carried her toward the door.
As they passed, Livia whispered, “Daddy, Aunt Bianca said bad girls lose pretty hair.”
My mother gasped from the hallway.
Bianca’s face hardened.
“She lies.”
My daughter buried her face in Rosalie’s neck.
That did it.
The last thread holding the day together snapped.
I walked to the door and spoke to Nico, my head of security.
“No one leaves the property.”
Bianca laughed sharply.
“You cannot hold my family hostage.”
“I can hold my house.”
“This is my wedding.”
“No,” I said. “This was my mistake.”
Her face changed.
I took my phone out and called Father Luca, waiting in the chapel downstairs.
“Postpone the ceremony.”
Bianca lunged toward me.
“Alessandro!”
Nico stepped between us.
I kept my eyes on her.
“Until I know what is on this card, there is no wedding.”
Her breathing turned shallow.
For the first time since I met her, Bianca Moretti looked less like a bride and more like a cornered criminal.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A message appeared.
Do not play the card in your house.
My skin went cold.
May you like
A second message followed.
Elena died because she trusted the wrong bride too.
