Chapter 4 - The Morning of the Wedding
The sun rose over Newport in a blaze of gold and pale blue, casting a brilliant light across the Atlantic Ocean.
By 8:00 a.m., my suite was bustling with hair stylists, makeup artists, and florists. White orchids and pale pink peonies filled the room, their sweet fragrance heavy in the air.
I sat motionless in front of the vanity mirror as the stylist pinned a delicate lace veil into my hair. To anyone watching, I looked like an ethereal, slightly pale bride overcome with emotion.
My phone chimed on the marble table.
It was a text from Everett: “Good morning, my beautiful bride. I can’t wait to watch you walk toward me today. You are my entire world. See you at the altar. — E.”
I stared at the words, feeling a wave of disgust so intense it nearly made me sick. I didn't reply. I simply locked the phone and set it back down.
At 10:30 a.m., there was a gentle knock at the door.
Priscilla Sloan stepped into the room. She was wearing a floor-length gown of emerald green silk, tailored to perfection, with a triple strand of South Sea pearls draped around her neck. She looked regal, imposing, and entirely confident.
“Oh, Laurel, darling,” she breathed, holding her hands over her chest as she approached me. “You look absolutely breathtaking.”
She gestured for the stylists to step outside. Once the double doors were closed, the atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. Priscilla’s warm smile tightened around the edges.
She reached into her designer handbag and pulled out a sleek leather folder, laying it directly onto the vanity table beside my bouquet.
“I brought the final document, sweetheart,” Priscilla said softly, her voice dripping with artificial affection. “Everett was up all night worrying. You know how sensitive he is about family security. He just wants to know that we are all entering this union as one united entity.”
I looked at the document. The top page read: AMENDED PRENUPTIAL AGREEMENT AND CORPORATE ASSET CONSOLIDATION.
“The wedding begins in two hours, Priscilla,” I said, keeping my voice soft, slightly breathless, and trembling just enough to play the role she expected. “My guests are already arriving at the estate.”
“Which is precisely why we should sign it now,” Priscilla said, pressing a gold fountain pen into my fingers. Her grip was tight—uncomfortably tight. “It’s just a formality, Laurel. Once this is signed, you are officially a Sloan. Our legacy becomes your legacy. Don't let a silly disagreement over paperwork ruin the happiest day of your life.”
I looked down at the gold pen in my hand. I could feel her predatory gaze hovering over my shoulder, counting down the seconds until her forty-two million dollar lifeline was secured.
I lifted my eyes, looking at her reflection in the mirror.
“I’ll sign it,” I whispered, letting a tear slip down my cheek.
Priscilla’s eyes flashed with a blinding, triumphant hunger. “Wise girl.”
“But not here,” I added, turning to face her. “Everett said last night that he wanted us to have complete trust in front of our families. I’ll sign it on stage during the champagne toast right before we exchange our formal vows. In front of everyone. So your family knows I am fully committed to the Sloan legacy.”
Priscilla froze for a fraction of a second. She evaluated my expression, searching for any sign of defiance. But all she saw was a tearful, cornered bride trying desperately to prove her worth to her future mother-in-law.
A slow, victorious smile spread across Priscilla’s face. The public surrender of my company in front of Rhode Island’s high society was even better than a private signature—it would lock me into the narrative permanently.
“That,” Priscilla said, taking the pen back and tucking the folder under her arm, “is a magnificent idea, Laurel. You truly are going to make an exceptional Sloan daughter.”
She leaned down, kissed both of my cheeks, and walked out of the suite.
The moment the door closed, I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand.
May you like
I looked at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were cold, sharp, and shining like polished steel.
“It’s time,” I said to the empty room.
