Chapter 7 - The Vance Family Secret
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Cassandra froze mid-lunge. She quickly pulled her hands back to her sides, her chest heaving as she tried to compose herself.
"I didn't," Cassandra lied smoothly, though her voice shook.
"You reached for the paper before I even said there was writing on it," Adrian pointed out, his voice a low, terrifying rumble.
"I was curious!" Cassandra argued defensively. "I wanted to see what the fraud had planted inside!"
"No." Adrian’s voice dropped, carrying the absolute authority of a man who decided who lived and died in Chicago. "You knew."
Cassandra shook her head frantically, her blonde hair flying around her shoulders. "Adrian, please—"
He ignored her and looked down, opening the tiny note again.
The first line contained a date from exactly twenty-seven years earlier. The night Isabella had vanished.
The second line contained the address of a highly secretive, private maternity home on the outskirts of the city—a place that had been closed and demolished decades ago.
But it was the third line that changed absolutely everything.
Adrian read it aloud, his voice echoing in the dead-silent ballroom.
"If anything happens to me, ask the Vance family why they paid to make Isabella Moretti disappear."
Every single face in the ballroom turned slowly, horrifyingly toward Cassandra.
Elena slowly looked at the woman who had just assaulted her. "Vance?"
Cassandra's lips parted, but no sound came out. She looked like a trapped animal.
Adrian’s eyes became chips of black ice.
The Vance family was Cassandra’s family. Her father, Robert Vance, had been Adrian’s father’s closest business partner and confidant for nearly thirty years. He was a man Adrian had grown up calling Uncle. A man who sat at their dinner table while they mourned Isabella's disappearance.
Cassandra took a stumbling step backward, her expensive heels clicking on the marble. "That note could be fake, Adrian. Anyone could have written that."
Adrian folded the tiny piece of paper carefully and slid it into the breast pocket of his tuxedo. "Maybe."
He looked over the crowd toward two of his massive, heavily armed security men standing near the grand entrance.
"Close the doors," Adrian commanded.
Cassandra stared at him, true panic finally breaking through her aristocratic mask. "What are you doing?"
The heavy, brass-studded ballroom doors slammed shut with a deafening thud. The locks engaged with a sharp click.
The string quartet had already stopped playing minutes ago. Two hundred of the most powerful people in the city stood silently beneath the crystal chandeliers, effectively taken hostage at an engagement party.
Adrian turned his attention back toward Elena.
"When your mother died," Adrian asked quietly, "did she leave you anything else?"
Elena hesitated, intimidated by the sudden lockdown. "A box."
Cassandra suddenly looked absolutely terrified. Her eyes darted wildly toward the closed doors.
Adrian noticed her reaction immediately. He looked back at Elena. "What kind of box?"
"I don't know," Elena admitted, clutching her torn collar. "It's a heavy metal lockbox. But she never gave me the key. It's locked."
"Where is it right now?"
"At my apartment. Hidden in the closet."
Cassandra interrupted immediately, her voice shrill and desperate. "Adrian, this has gone far enough! Open the doors!"
Adrian slowly turned his entire body to face her. "Why?"
"Because this is our engagement party!" Cassandra yelled, gesturing wildly at the silent crowd. "These are important people! You are embarrassing me!"
"No," Adrian said softly.
He reached out, grabbed Cassandra's left hand, and forcefully removed the massive, multi-million dollar diamond engagement ring from her finger.
Her face went entirely blank.
"It was," Adrian corrected coldly.
"Adrian…" she whispered, tears finally pooling in her eyes.
He casually placed the priceless ring on the nearest cocktail table. Then, he looked at Elena.
"Tomorrow morning, you're bringing me that box," Adrian instructed.
Elena stared at him, overwhelmed by the sudden shift in power. "And tonight?"
May you like
Adrian slowly turned back toward Cassandra. For the very first time since Elena had entered the ballroom to serve champagne, the powerful, arrogant blonde woman looked genuinely, paralyzingly frightened.
"Tonight," Adrian said quietly, his voice carrying the promise of violence, "my former fiancée is going to explain to this room exactly why her family’s name was hidden inside my missing sister’s locket."
