Chapter 2
Dominic sent Aria inside.
Not alone.
The physician went with her.
So did Rosa, the nanny who had cared for her since birth.
Dominic remained in the garden.
The engagement decorations moved gently in the Manhattan evening breeze.
A wedding ring sat in his palm.
Another lay among broken lanterns at Vivienne’s feet.
Two different promises.
Both destroyed.
“What is in the dress?”
Vivienne folded her arms.
“I have no idea.”
Dominic watched her hands.
Her right thumb kept rubbing the side of her index finger.
She did that when anxious.
He had noticed months ago.
“You looked at it.”
“It belonged to Elena.”
“So does the ring.”
Her jaw tightened.
Marcus interrupted.
“You're turning a child’s memory into an interrogation.”
Dominic looked at him.
Marcus forced himself to hold the stare.
“Aria is three.”
“Yes.”
“She barely remembers her mother.”
A pause.
Dominic’s voice lowered.
“Then why did your sister hit her for remembering?”
Marcus’s eyes shifted toward Vivienne.
That was enough.
Dominic saw doubt.
The siblings were not working from the same version of the story.
Vivienne saw it too.
“Marcus.”
He looked at her.
Her voice sharpened.
“Don't.”
That one word revealed hierarchy.
Whatever Vivienne was hiding, Marcus knew enough to be dangerous but not enough to be trusted.
Dominic ordered the garden security footage preserved.
He also told the physician to photograph Aria’s injuries.
Vivienne scoffed.
“You're documenting a joke now?”
Dominic’s head turned.
She immediately regretted speaking.
His voice stayed quiet.
“You keep using that word.”
Vivienne's breathing shortened.
Dominic continued.
“I’m beginning to think you need it to stay a joke.”
No one answered.
Rosa returned carrying the dress in both hands.
Aria had changed into pajamas.
The old gown was pale ivory, slightly outdated, beautifully preserved.
The shoulder seam had been ripped nearly eight inches.
Rosa looked upset.
“Mr. Ravello…”
Dominic took it.
“Was this tear from tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see what happened?”
Rosa swallowed.
“I heard Aria scream. When I entered the dressing room, Ms. Cross had both hands on the dress.”
Vivienne snapped:
“She wouldn't take it off.”
Rosa’s eyes hardened.
“She didn't want to.”
“You work for us.”
“No.”
Rosa’s voice trembled but held.
“I work for Aria.”
Dominic felt that sentence.
Vivienne did too.
He examined the torn seam.
Something stiff sat beneath the lining.
Dominic looked at Rosa.
She had noticed it too.
Using two fingers, he carefully separated the damaged fabric.
A narrow strip of folded paper slid out.
Vivienne stepped forward.
Dominic’s bodyguard moved once.
She stopped.
Dominic unfolded the paper.
It was not a letter.
It was a claim receipt from a private jewelry restoration house in Manhattan.
Date:
Sixteen months earlier.
Three days before Elena died.
Item:
WEDDING RING — RAVELLO, ELENA.
Special instruction:
RETURN ONLY TO E.R. OR V.C.
Dominic slowly lifted his eyes.
Vivienne Cross.
Elena had deliberately authorized Vivienne to collect the ring.
But the receipt contained one handwritten line beneath the printed text.
May you like
IF I DON'T COME BACK, GIVE IT TO ARIA.
Vivienne had known exactly who the ring belonged to.
