Chapter 5 - The Wedding Dress and the Trap
Thursday morning arrived with a cold, gray drizzle that turned the gravel drives of Oyster Bay to slush.
Inside the grand salon of the estate, a team of bridal consultants buzzed around Vanessa Russo like worker bees around a queen. Gowns of imported French lace and silk tulle hung from antique mannequins.
Vanessa stood on a low wooden podium while a tailor pinned the hem of her ivory wedding dress.
Dominic stood near the double doors, watching with an expression of absolute, terrifying calm.
“Well?” Vanessa asked, looking at him in the gilded mirror. “Do you like it, Dominic? It cost more than a small yacht, but my father insisted that a wedding of this scale requires perfection.”
“It’s very white, Vanessa,” Dominic said smoothly.
Vanessa sighed, waving the tailor away. She stepped down from the podium and walked over to Dominic, her perfume—heavy with jasmine and expensive amber—filling the air.
“You’ve been distant all week,” she said, her fingers resting lightly on the lapel of his suit jacket. “My father mentioned you haven't returned his calls about the Port Newark logistics transfer. Is there a problem?”
“No problem,” Dominic replied, looking down into her eyes. “Just managing some loose ends.”
“Make sure they stay tied,” Vanessa warned softly, a sharp edge entering her voice. “After Friday, our families become one unit. There won't be room for loose ends, Dominic. In our world, things that aren't nailed down tend to disappear.”
“I’m well aware of how things disappear in our world,” Dominic said, his voice flat.
At that exact moment, the heavy oak doors opened slightly, and Lily peeked into the room. She was holding Captain, her stuffed rabbit, and looked wide-eyed at the sea of white dresses and important-looking adults.
Vanessa turned, her face instantly souring.
“Get that child out of here,” Vanessa snapped, waving her hand dismissively. “She’s tracking mud across the imported Persian rug.”
Rachel appeared in the doorway a second later, looking panicked. She rushed forward, grabbing Lily’s hand. “I am so sorry, Miss Russo! I turned my back for one second—come along, Lily—”
“Wait,” Dominic said.
Rachel froze, looking up at him with terror in her eyes.
Dominic walked past Vanessa, knelt down in front of four-year-old Lily, and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small, polished silver pocket watch—an antique passed down from his grandfather—and flipped the cover open. The tiny gears whirred with a soft, delicate tick that only he could feel through his fingertips.
He held it out to Lily.
Lily’s eyes lit up. She reached out with both hands and gently touched the metal case.
Dominic signed: Keep it safe.
Lily nodded solemnly, clutching the watch to her chest like a precious treasure. She looked up at Dominic and signed back: Friend.
Dominic gave a slow, deliberate nod.
Behind him, Vanessa’s face twisted into an ugly mask of pure disdain. “Have you lost your mind, Dominic? Gifting a family heirloom to a maid’s bastard child? When we are married, the first thing I’m doing is clearing out the staff quarters. That woman and her brat are gone.”
Dominic stood up slowly. He turned to face Vanessa, his dark eyes freezing her in place.
“When we are married, Vanessa,” Dominic said, each word landing like a hammer blow, “you will learn your place in this house. And you will never speak to my guests that way again.”
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The salon went dead silent. The tailors dropped their pins. Even Grant, standing by the door, braced himself.
Vanessa stared at him, her chest heaving with suppressed fury. She didn't say another word. She simply turned her back and walked away, her jaw clenched so tight her teeth ached.
