Chapter 2 - The Secret of the Locket
A collective gasp echoed across the room.
Alexander’s body went completely rigid. His hand instinctively reached toward his vest pocket, where a worn, antique platinum locket had resided next to his heart every single day for the past five years—a locket containing the only surviving photograph of his late wife, Rosalie, who had supposedly died in a catastrophic private plane crash off the coast of Maine five years ago, while six months pregnant with Noah.
Alexander dropped to one knee in front of Hannah. His powerful hands, which had signed billion-dollar corporate mergers without a single tremor, were now noticeably shaking as he reached out, his fingers gently catching Hannah’s jawline and tilting her face up into the harsh light of the crystal chandeliers.
He stared at her face. He looked past the lack of makeup, past the simple fabric of the green uniform, and past the deep dark circles under her eyes born of hard, exhausting labor.
Underneath it all were the exact same amber-flecked eyes, the exact same delicate arch of the cheekbones, and the small, crescent-shaped scar near her left eyebrow that he used to trace with his thumb every night before they went to sleep.
"Rosalie...?" Alexander breathed, the name ripping from his throat like a ragged sob. "How... how are you alive? Why are you wearing a maid’s uniform in my house?!"
"I'm not Rosalie," Hannah cried, pulling back from his touch, tears pouring down her nose. "My name is Hannah Miller! I don't know who Rosalie is! Please, Mr. Sterling, let me go!"
"Liars! All of them!" an icy, aristocratic voice shouted from the front row of the family gallery.
Lady Victoria Sterling—Alexander’s mother and the supreme matriarch of the Sterling empire—stepped onto the aisle holding a heavy silver cane. Her face was a mask of cold, calculating fury as she stared down at Hannah.
"Alexander, stop this madness at once!" Victoria commanded, her voice ringing with absolute dominance. "Your wife died five years ago! The dental records confirmed it! This woman is nothing more than an opportunistic imposter who happens to share a resemblance to Rosalie! She’s using our grandson to steal the Sterling estate!"
Victoria turned to the head of security. "Chief Vance! Drag this woman out of my house and hand her over to the police for child endangerment and fraud!"
Four armed security officers moved forward instantly, reaching for Hannah’s arms.
"Touch her," Alexander said, his voice dropping to a register so dark, so heavy, and so filled with absolute violence that all four officers stopped dead in their tracks, "and I will personally ensure your families starve in the streets by tomorrow morning."
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Alexander stood up, taking off his heavy black wool tuxedo jacket and placing it gently over Hannah’s trembling shoulders, covering her maid’s uniform. He then reached down, scooped little Noah up into his left arm, and took Hannah’s hand firmly in his right.
"The wedding is canceled," Alexander announced to the stunned ballroom, not bothering to look back at his mother or his three humiliated suitors. "Arthur, clear the estate. Lock the gates. No one leaves the property until I give the order."
