Chapter 5 - The Snake in the Garden
While Adrian and Grace spoke in the study, chaos was unfolding in the east parlor where Vivian DeLuca was being held under armed guard.
The heavy oak door unlocked with a sharp click, and Marcus Hale stepped inside.
Vivian jumped up from the velvet settee, her face flushed with fury. “About time! Have you lost your damn mind, Marcus? Call my father right now! Tell him Adrian has locked me in a room like a common criminal!”
“Your father is currently sitting on the front terrace with a squad of my snipers pointed at his chest,” Marcus said calmly, closing the door behind him. “He isn't taking phone calls right now.”
Vivian’s jaw dropped. “You’ve detained my father? Are you insane? The DeLucas will wipe your little syndicate off the map before the week is out!”
“Your father didn't know about the gun, Vivian,” Marcus said, stepping closer and folding his hands behind his back. “We checked his communications. He was genuinely shocked. Which means someone else in your family—or someone close to Adrian—orchestrated this little performance.”
Vivian sneered. “Well, it wasn't me! Why would I ruin my own wedding? Do you have any idea how much that dress cost?”
“I know it cost a quarter of a million dollars,” Marcus replied smoothly. “And I know that whoever sewed a 9mm pistol into the internal lining had access to your private dressing room for at least forty-eight hours without being disturbed.”
Vivian’s eyes flickered nervously for a microsecond—just long enough for Marcus to catch it.
“Who had access to your suite, Vivian?” Marcus asked, his voice hardening.
“Nobody! Just my bridesmaids, the stylist, and—” She stopped abruptly.
“And who?” Marcus pressed.
“And nobody!” Vivian snapped, turning away and crossing her arms. “You’re just trying to frame me because Adrian never wanted to marry me in the first place!”
Marcus studied her back for a long moment, realizing she was hiding something—not necessarily about the gun, but about someone she was protecting.
May you like
Before he could push her further, his radio buzzed sharply against his collar.
“Hale. Get down to the lower archive room immediately,” Adrian’s voice crackled through the earpiece, cold as ice. “We have a visitor.”
