Chapter 6
Adrian knelt slowly on the marble floor, completely ignoring the scattered gift boxes and the weeping woman a few feet away. His entire universe had narrowed down to the little girl in the dusty dress and the sealed envelope in her hand.
He gently took the envelope from Clara. The paper was worn, as if it had been carried for a very long time. In familiar, elegant handwriting across the front, the words were clearly marked: ADRIAN HALE — ONLY.
It was Elena’s handwriting. There was absolutely no mistaking it.
"Where is your mother, Clara?" Adrian asked, his deep, raspy voice breaking with an emotion he hadn't felt in five years. "Where is Elena?"
"She's asleep," Clara sobbed, burying her face into baby Mia's blanket. "The bad men came, and she told me to run and find the address on the paper. She wouldn't wake up."
Adrian closed his eyes, a sharp, agonizing pain piercing his chest. Elena was gone. But she had sent him their children.
From the pile of scattered wedding cards, Victoria let out a strangled gasp. She scrambled to her hands and knees, her elaborate bridal gown stained with dirt and blood from her lip. She stared at the sealed envelope in Adrian’s hand, her eyes wide with a terrifying, desperate panic.
"Adrian, don't open it!" Victoria begged, crawling toward him. "It's a trick! It's forged! You can't believe a word she wrote!"
Adrian opened his eyes. The sorrow vanished, instantly replaced by a cold, calculating realization. He looked at his beautiful, weeping bride. He looked at the sheer terror in her eyes—not fear of him, but fear of the letter.
"I haven't even opened it yet," Adrian said slowly, his volume perfectly controlled, keeping his voice low even as the threat hung heavily in the air.
He stood up, towering over Victoria. He reached to his right hand, gripped the heavy gold wedding band he had placed on his finger just an hour ago for the photographs, and pulled it off.
He dropped the ring. It hit the marble floor with a sharp, metallic clink and rolled to a stop directly at Victoria’s feet.
"You knew what was inside before I opened it," Adrian said, his voice quiet and lethal. "The wedding is over."
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Victoria’s face became overwhelmingly frightened. The blood completely drained from her rosy cheeks. "Adrian, please..."
Standing a few feet away, Catherine Hale, Adrian’s thirty-seven-year-old sister, stared intently at the envelope. Her elegant formal gown rustled as she took a slow step forward, her eyes narrowing as she processed the horrific implications of Victoria's panic.
