Chapter 8 - The Wedding Dress ArrivesThe wedding dress arrived the next morning.
It came in a white van with gold lettering, carried by two nervous assistants who had clearly not been told the wedding was canceled. They brought it through the service entrance of Blackwood mansion at 9:15 a.m., wrapped in layers of tissue and silk, the kind of gown magazines would have called timeless.
Marco met them in the foyer.
The same foyer where Ethan had screamed.
The assistants smiled uncertainly.
“Delivery for Ms. Serena Montigue,” one said.
Marco looked at the enormous garment bag.
“No.”
The young woman blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“No.”
“We were instructed to deliver directly to the bridal suite.”
“There is no bridal suite.”
The second assistant lowered his voice. “Sir, this gown is valued at two hundred thousand dollars.”
Marco stared at him.
“That’s unfortunate.”
Before the assistants could respond, Victor entered from the stairs.
He had returned from the hospital only to change clothes and speak with police. He had slept less than one hour. It showed in his face, but not in his posture.
“What is that?” he asked.
Marco answered, “Ms. Montigue’s wedding dress.”
Victor looked at it.
For a brief second, no one moved.
Then he said, “Put it in the library.”
Marco’s eyes flicked toward him.
The library was where Serena had been held while waiting for police.
Victor’s expression remained unreadable.
“Unwrapped,” he added.
Twenty minutes later, the dress stood on a mannequin in the library, luminous and absurd beneath the dark shelves of old books.
Victor stared at it.
The gown was beautiful.
That almost angered him more.
How much ugliness had hidden beneath beauty in his house?
The door opened.
Detective Ellison entered with Evelyn Price, Victor’s attorney.
“We authenticated the footage,” Ellison said without greeting. “No alteration.”
Victor nodded.
“And Conrad?”
“Still claiming conspiracy. He’s now suggesting you framed Serena to avoid marriage.”
Evelyn sighed. “Of course he is.”
Victor looked at the wedding dress.
“Let him.”
Detective Ellison followed his gaze.
“That yours?”
“Not anymore.”
Evelyn placed a folder on the desk.
“We need to discuss Lily.”
Victor’s attention sharpened.
“What about her?”
“The Montigue team is preparing a civil attack. They’ll question her background, her brother, her finances, her reason for applying to your household.”
Victor’s face darkened.
“She did nothing wrong.”
“That won’t stop them.”
Detective Ellison added, “If Caleb Harper is tied to the Montigue investigation, Lily may become material to more than one case.”
Victor understood.
“They’ll try to make her disappear.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t need to.”
Evelyn opened the folder.
“There is another problem.”
Victor waited.
“The nanny placement agency that sent Lily to you was purchased last year through a shell company.”
Victor looked at her.
“Owned by?”
Evelyn hesitated.
“Montigue Holdings.”
The room went silent.
Victor’s eyes slowly moved from the folder to the wedding dress.
“She was placed in my house by Conrad?”
“It appears that way.”
Detective Ellison crossed her arms.
“That could mean several things. They may have known who she was and wanted to monitor her. Or someone inside the agency flagged her after placement. We don’t know yet.”
Victor’s voice was quiet.
“But Serena found out.”
“Possibly.”
He thought of Lily in the hospital waiting room, saying she had tried to hide.
She had run from Montigue and landed in a mansion already touched by his money.
Victor walked to the window.
Below, reporters waited beyond the gates.
“What does Lily know that Conrad fears?” he asked.
Detective Ellison answered carefully.
“Maybe nothing. Maybe her brother knew enough, and Conrad thinks Caleb told her.”
Victor turned back.
“Find Caleb.”
“We’re trying.”
“No,” Victor said. “Try harder.”
Ellison’s eyes narrowed.
“Careful, Mr. Blackwood.”
He almost smiled.
“Detective, I am being careful.”
Before she could respond, Marco entered again.
“There’s a call from the hospital.”
Victor’s face changed instantly.
“Ethan?”
“Stable. But Lily received flowers.”
Victor’s blood ran cold.
“From who?”
“No name.”
“What kind?”
Marco looked sick.
“White lilies.”
Evelyn cursed under her breath.
Detective Ellison was already moving.
“Have hospital security isolate them.”
Victor grabbed his coat.
“Car. Now.”
As he strode from the library, he passed the wedding dress.
For nine days, that gown had represented a future Serena believed she had secured. A mansion. A name. A child she wanted to control. A man she thought she could blind.
Now it stood alone in the room where her lies had begun unraveling.
Victor stopped at the door.
“Marco.”
“Yes?”
“Send the dress back to Conrad.”
Marco’s mouth twitched. “With a note?”
Victor looked once more at the white silk.
“Yes.”
“What should it say?”
Victor’s eyes were cold.
“Your daughter forgot something when she left in handcuffs.”
Marco smiled for the first time in two days.
At the hospital, Lily stood frozen beside the flowers when Victor arrived.
The bouquet had been removed to a sealed evidence bag, but one card remained on the counter.
She had not touched it.
Victor read the message.
Pretty things break easily.
Lily whispered, “This is because of me.”
Victor turned toward her.
“No.”
“Ethan was hurt because I was in that house.”
“No,” Victor said again, sharper now. “Ethan was hurt because Serena chose cruelty.”
Lily shook her head.
But Victor stepped closer.
“Listen to me. Men like Conrad survive by making victims carry the blame. Do not help him.”
Her eyes filled.
“He has my brother.”
Victor did not lie.
“Maybe.”
“And if Caleb is alive?”
“Then we find him.”
“If he isn’t?”
Victor’s face softened.
“Then we still make sure the truth is.”
Lily looked through the glass at Ethan asleep.
The baby had one tiny sock missing.
Somehow that detail nearly broke her.
Victor followed her gaze.
“You once asked me for two days off,” he said.
She looked at him, confused.
“Four months ago. You said it was personal. Mrs. Vale denied it because Serena wanted extra staff for a luncheon.”
Lily remembered.
“I was going to Boston,” she whispered. “Someone said they saw Caleb.”
Victor’s jaw tightened.
“I should have known.”
“You were planning a wedding.”
“I was planning the wrong future.”
Lily turned to him.
For the first time, neither of them looked away.
Outside the room, the hospital continued around them.
Inside, a new understanding formed.
Not romance.
Not yet.
Something more dangerous.
May you like
Trust.
And in Chicago, trust was rarer than power.
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