Chapter 3 - Blood on the Ivory Silk
The crack of the pistol reverberated through the marble corridors, followed instantly by the shrill scream of a woman. Margaret instinctively stepped behind Ethan, whose weapon was already unholstered from beneath his jacket with surgical speed.
"Stay here," Ethan ordered, pushing Margaret into an alcove.
He sprinted toward the bridal dressing room, kicking the heavy door inward with a single strike. Inside, the room was bathed in golden vanity lights, but the mirror was shattered into jagged webs. Vanessa was pinned against the wall, her breathing ragged, her pristine bridal veil torn from her dark hair. Standing over her with a smoking revolver was Marcus Kane, Ethan’s closest friend and supposed best man.
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"Marcus?" Ethan said, keeping his weapon leveled squarely at the center of Marcus’s chest. "What the hell are you doing?"
Marcus didn't lower his gun. His jaw was set, sweat beading along his temple. On the floor beneath them lay the overturned vanity table, scattered cosmetics, and a small glass vial shattered on the carpet, its oily liquid dissolving into the fibers.
"She was going to kill you, Ethan," Marcus said, his voice shaking with furious adrenaline. "I walked in to deliver the family heirloom pendant, and I caught her mixing that vial into your flask. She tried to shoot me with her derringer. The bullet went into the mirror."
Vanessa let out a low, venomous laugh as she pushed herself upright from the wall. Her face was flushed, her dark eyes glittering with unrestrained contempt. She brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, completely unbothered by the gun aimed at her chest. "You think you’re so smart, don't you, Marcus? Always the loyal golden retriever sniffing around Ethan’s heels."
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She looked straight at Ethan, her lips curling into a cruel smile. "Did Marcus tell you why he really came into this room, Ethan? Did he tell you about the text messages on his burner phone?"
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Ethan’s eyes flicked to Marcus. "Marcus, lower the gun."
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"Ethan, don't listen to her! She’s playing mind games!" Marcus shouted, his hand trembling slightly.
"Tell him, Marcus," Vanessa whispered, taking a slow, deliberate step toward the broken glass on the floor. "Tell Ethan who funded Julian’s escape two years ago. Tell him whose offshore account sent the three million dollars to Zurich. It wasn't me, darling. It was your loyal best man."
