Chapter 7
I wanted to run down the driveway and confront him.
I wanted to ask how he could look at himself in the mirror.
But Olivia stopped me before I reached the staircase.
"Serena, don't give them the confrontation they're looking for."
I stood trembling.
"He's trying to take my baby."
"He has filed a request. That is not the same as obtaining an order."
I looked at her.
"Can he actually do this?"
"He can make a request. Whether the court grants it depends on evidence and the law."
Dad approached.
"What's the best thing we can do?"
Olivia's answer was immediate.
"Document everything. Respond properly. Keep Serena safe."
I looked toward the gates.
Adrian's headlights were still visible.
Margaret stood beside his car, arguing with one of our security guards.
She wore the same expensive hairstyle from Bianca's wedding.
I wondered whether she had any idea how much damage she'd caused.
Or whether she simply didn't care.
Olivia called the attorney handling my divorce and custody matters.
Within an hour, we had a plan.
We would challenge any false statements in Adrian's filing.
We would submit the evidence of the forged financial documents and the recorded conspiracy.
And we would request protective measures if the threats continued.
I spent the next morning at Olivia's office.
There were statements to review.
Documents to identify.
Dates to remember.
Every question reopened another wound.
"Did Adrian ever threaten to leave you?"
"Yes."
"Did Margaret ever make comments about your ability to care for a child?"
"Constantly."
"Did Bianca ever accuse you of being mentally unstable?"
I almost laughed.
"Every time I disagreed with her."
Olivia listened without interrupting.
Then she asked something that made my chest hurt.
"Serena, why did you stay?"
I stared at my hands.
For a long time, I couldn't answer.
Then I whispered, "Because I remembered the man I married."
I told her about our first date.
Adrian had taken me to a tiny restaurant near the harbor.
He couldn't afford anything expensive, so we shared pasta and watched the boats.
He was funny.
Gentle.
Attentive.
When it started raining, he gave me his jacket and walked three blocks in the cold.
I fell in love with that man.
The problem was that I kept searching for him long after he disappeared.
"I thought if I loved him enough, he'd choose me."
Olivia's eyes softened.
"Serena, love isn't supposed to require you to disappear."
I looked down at my stomach.
My daughter shifted gently.
And suddenly, I knew something.
I didn't want her growing up believing she had to earn someone's kindness.
I wanted her to know that love should make her feel safe.
Not frightened.
Not small.
Not ashamed.
The next several days passed in a blur.
The criminal investigation moved forward.
The authorities interviewed guests who had witnessed Margaret's actions.
They collected hotel footage showing Bianca handling the ring.
They examined the property documents.
And Evelyn formally provided the records she had preserved.
Meanwhile, the Blackwood family's problems began becoming public.
A lender filed a lawsuit against their investment company.
Several former employees reported unpaid wages.
The family business faced financial scrutiny.
Margaret accused my father of destroying them.
But Dad hadn't created their debts.
He hadn't forged signatures.
He hadn't planned the wedding humiliation.
He had simply refused to rescue them from the consequences.
On Thursday afternoon, Nathan requested a meeting.
I was surprised.
I hadn't spoken to him since the wedding.
Olivia arranged for us to meet at her office.
Nathan arrived looking exhausted.
His wedding ring was gone.
"Serena," he began, "I owe you more than an apology."
I shook my head.
"You told the truth when it mattered."
"Not soon enough."
He sat across from me.
"Bianca and I are separating."
I blinked.
"Already?"
He nodded.
"I found messages on a shared account after the wedding."
My stomach tightened.
"What messages?"
"She was making plans for money she expected to receive after your inheritance became available."
I frowned.
"Why would Bianca receive any of it?"
Nathan looked ashamed.
"Adrian apparently promised to help pay off her debts."
I stared at him.
"What debts?"
"Credit cards. Personal loans. Wedding expenses."
I leaned back.
The wedding had been a financial disaster disguised as a celebration.
Nathan continued.
"She told me her family had everything under control."
His voice cracked.
"I married someone I didn't really know."
I understood that feeling too well.
He placed an envelope on the table.
"This is a copy of the relevant messages. My attorney has the originals, and I'm willing to provide them to investigators."
Olivia accepted it.
"Thank you."
Nathan looked at me.
"There's something else."
I waited.
"Bianca has been telling people you staged the entire incident to humiliate her."
I almost smiled.
"Of course she has."
"She's saying your father manipulated the footage."
Olivia looked up.
"That accusation may have legal consequences if she continues making false statements."
Nathan nodded.
"That's why I came."
He stood.
Then paused at the door.
"Serena, I hope your daughter grows up knowing what a brave mother she has."
I looked down.
"Thank you."
After he left, I sat quietly for several minutes.
For the first time, I didn't feel the need to defend myself.
The truth was finally doing that for me.
That evening, I received a surprising call from a former hotel employee.
Her name was Danielle.
She had served as the wedding coordinator.
"I wasn't sure whether I should contact you," she said.
"Why?"
"Because there was something strange about Bianca's wedding schedule."
I sat straighter.
"What do you mean?"
"Margaret insisted that the security staff assigned to the bridal suite be reassigned for a specific period."
My heart quickened.
"Why?"
"She said Bianca needed privacy."
"Was that unusual?"
"Very."
Danielle hesitated.
"She also requested that the surveillance recording system near the private lounge be temporarily disabled."
I froze.
"But the cameras were working."
"Yes. Our security director refused."
I thought of Marcus.
Of the preserved footage.
Of the missing ring.
If Margaret had succeeded, none of it might have been recorded.
"Why are you telling me now?"
Danielle took a shaky breath.
"Because Margaret called me yesterday."
"What did she want?"
"She offered me money to say there had been a camera malfunction that night."
My hand tightened around the phone.
"How much?"
"Fifty thousand dollars."
I closed my eyes.
"Did you accept?"
"No."
Her voice strengthened.
"I contacted the investigators instead."
I felt an unexpected wave of gratitude.
"Thank you, Danielle."
"You're welcome."
She hesitated.
"There's one more thing."
"What?"
"Margaret said if the footage couldn't be discredited, she would make sure your father regretted interfering."
I went completely still.
"What exactly did she say?"
Danielle repeated the words.
May you like
And this time, my fear wasn't for myself.
It was for Dad.
