Chapter 1
The first thing I heard was the sound of expensive lace being ripped apart.
Then I heard my future mother-in-law laughing.
"She doesn't deserve to wear this dress."
I stopped outside the dressing room of the Whitmore mansion, clutching the garment box against my chest.
My name is Nia Carter.
I was twenty-eight years old, and in less than forty-eight hours, I was supposed to marry the man I loved.
Instead, I was about to discover how much his mother hated me.
Through the partially open doorway, I saw Evelyn Whitmore standing beside my wedding gown.
The beautiful white dress was displayed on a mannequin.
It had delicate lace sleeves, a fitted bodice, and a long train decorated with hundreds of tiny pearls.
I had spent six months helping Grace, the family's elderly seamstress, design it.
Every detail meant something to me.
The embroidered roses reminded me of my grandmother.
The pearls belonged to my late mother.
And a small blue ribbon was stitched inside the lining because my father had always called me his little bluebird.
That gown wasn't just something I would wear.
It carried the people I wished could stand beside me on my wedding day.
And Evelyn was destroying it.
She gripped a pair of enormous silver scissors.
Then she plunged them into the lace skirt.
RIP.
A long section fell to the floor.
Grace gasped.
"Mrs. Whitmore, please!"
She grabbed Evelyn's arm.
"That's Nia's wedding dress!"
Evelyn jerked away.
"Take your hands off me!"
Grace stumbled backward.
I saw fear on the older woman's face.
She had worked for the Whitmore family for twenty-seven years.
She rarely challenged Evelyn.
But she loved me.
And she had spent countless nights helping me sew that gown.
"Please," Grace whispered. "The wedding is Saturday."
Evelyn smiled coldly.
"Then she'll have to find something else to wear."
She raised the scissors again.
Another piece of lace dropped to the floor.
"My son should marry someone from our world."
I felt my stomach twist.
From our world.
I knew exactly what she meant.
Marcus Whitmore came from money.
Old money.
His family owned commercial properties, hotels, and investment companies throughout Georgia.
I came from a modest neighborhood in Savannah.
My mother cleaned hotel rooms.
My father repaired cars.
Neither of them lived long enough to see me become a successful elementary school teacher.
I didn't have a famous family name.
I didn't have an inheritance.
And according to Evelyn Whitmore, that made me unworthy of her son.
I wanted to scream.
But my voice wouldn't come.
Then I noticed someone standing near the opposite doorway.
Marcus.
My fiancé.
He wore the black suit he'd been trying on for the rehearsal dinner.
His shoulders were rigid.
His jaw was clenched.
For a moment, I thought he would rush toward his mother.
Instead, he silently lifted his phone.
He began recording.
I didn't understand why.
Not yet.
Evelyn continued cutting.
"She probably thinks marrying Marcus means she'll never have to work again."
Grace shook her head.
"Miss Nia has never asked this family for money."
Evelyn laughed.
"That's what makes her clever."
My eyes filled.
I had never asked Marcus for anything.
When he offered to pay off my student loans, I refused.
When he wanted to buy me a luxury car, I told him my old Honda worked perfectly.
I loved him because he made me laugh.
Because he listened when I talked about my students.
Because he remembered the anniversary of my mother's death and sat beside me at the cemetery without saying a word.
I loved Marcus.
Not his money.
But his mother had decided otherwise.
I finally pushed open the door.
"What are you doing?"
My voice sounded strange.
Thin.
Broken.
Evelyn turned.
She didn't even look embarrassed.
The scissors remained in her hand.
I stared at the dress.
A huge opening ran down the front of the skirt.
The embroidered roses were shredded.
Pearls scattered across the polished wooden floor.
I dropped the garment box.
"What did you do?"
Tears spilled down my cheeks.
Evelyn lifted her chin.
"Consider it a warning."
I stared at her.
"A warning?"
She stepped closer.
"You don't belong in this family."
Grace began crying quietly.
I couldn't move.
For six months, I'd tried to earn Evelyn's approval.
I had attended her charity dinners.
Helped organize her birthday celebration.
Sent flowers when she was sick.
I had even changed the wedding menu because she disliked the food my family traditionally served.
None of it mattered.
"Why?" I whispered.
Evelyn looked almost amused.
"Because you're not good enough."
Something inside my chest broke.
Then a man's voice cut through the room.
"No, Mom."
Marcus stepped forward.
Evelyn spun around.
"Marcus!"
He moved directly beside me.
His hand found mine.
"Consider this your warning."
His voice was terrifyingly calm.
Evelyn forced a smile.
"Sweetheart, I was only—"
"Don't."
He lifted his phone.
On the screen was a video of Evelyn cutting my wedding dress.
Her cruel words were clearly audible.
Her face changed.
"Marcus, turn that off."
He didn't move.
"You destroyed Nia's gown."
Evelyn swallowed.
"I was protecting you."
"From what?"
He pointed toward me.
"From the woman I love?"
Evelyn's expression hardened.
"You don't understand what she's after."
Marcus stepped closer.
"I understand exactly what you're doing."
Then he placed his arm around my shoulders.
"You wanted her gone."
His voice cracked with anger.
"Instead, you just lost me."
Evelyn went pale.
For the first time, she looked frightened.
"Marcus, you don't mean that."
"I mean every word."
I began crying harder.
Not because the dress was ruined.
Because for the first time since our engagement, Marcus had openly confronted his mother.
He wasn't asking me to be patient.
He wasn't telling me she needed more time.
He was standing beside me.
Then Grace suddenly gasped.
"Marcus."
We turned.
She was kneeling beside the damaged gown.
Something white protruded from beneath the torn lining.
A sealed envelope.
Grace lifted it carefully.
"Your mother left something else in the dress."
Marcus frowned.
"What is that?"
I stepped forward.
The envelope was thick.
My name was written across the front.
NIA CARTER.
My heart started pounding.
Evelyn's face drained of color.
"Give that to me."
Grace pulled it away.
"Mrs. Whitmore?"
Evelyn lunged forward.
"DON'T OPEN THAT!"
Marcus caught her wrist before she could snatch it.
I stared at the envelope.
Something about it terrified her.
Something she wanted hidden.
I slowly reached for the seal.
Then I noticed the handwriting beneath my name.
It was a sentence written in blue ink.
"If Marcus still intends to marry Nia, he deserves to know what really happened seventeen years ago."
I looked at Marcus.
He looked just as confused as I felt.
Evelyn began shaking.
"Please," she whispered.
May you like
It was the first time I had ever heard that woman beg.
And suddenly, I knew my ruined wedding dress was only the beginning of something much bigger.
