Chapter 1
Victor did not hit Seraphina again.
That surprised the ballroom.
It surprised Seraphina most.
She stood among crushed white roses and broken champagne flutes, one hand against her reddened cheek, still wearing the smile of a woman waiting for him to destroy himself.
Victor turned away from her.
“Call an ambulance.”
A cousin moved too slowly.
Victor’s voice dropped.
“Now.”
Beatrice sat in a chair near the edge of the dance floor, one palm pressed to her cheek. She was eighty-two, small, and trying to look dignified while her hand trembled.
“I’m fine,” she said.
Victor knelt in front of her.
“You’re not.”
“Don’t make a scene.”
He looked around the ruined wedding reception.
“That part is done.”
Paramedics checked Beatrice.
No broken bones.
No head injury.
A swollen cheek.
Dangerous shock for a woman her age.
Police arrived because hotel security had already called after the slap.
Detective Laura Kane separated everyone.
The ballroom footage showed Seraphina ripping the microphone away and striking Beatrice.
It also showed Victor helping Beatrice into a chair, walking back across the room, and striking Seraphina after the immediate danger had passed.
Laura looked at him.
“You understand those are separate events.”
Victor nodded.
“She hit my aunt. I hit her.”
“After your aunt was seated.”
“Yes.”
His attorney closed his eyes.
Seraphina’s lawyer arrived within the hour.
Her first claim was that Beatrice had tried to publicly defame her during the toast.
Her second was that Victor’s violence proved the wedding had been a trap.
Her third was:
“Mrs. Bellacosta knows why Victor’s father disappeared.”
Beatrice’s face changed every time the father was mentioned.
Victor saw it.
So did Laura Kane.
Enzo Bellacosta, Victor’s father, had vanished thirty-four years earlier after a family dinner.
No body.
No trial.
No goodbye.
May you like
Victor had spent his life believing Enzo had been murdered by rivals.
Now his new bride was smiling over a secret that terrified the woman who raised him.
