Chapter 1 - THE ROOM STOPPED LAUGHING
The laughter died when I straightened.
Not all at once.
It faded in pieces.
One table.
Then another.
Then the entire ballroom.
Because blood was running from my nose.
Luca still had one hand on my shoulder.
“Smile,” he whispered.
I did.
Then I looked directly at Phoebe.
She understood immediately.
My maid of honor crossed the room carrying her purse.
Inside it was the envelope I had prepared three nights earlier.
Medical photographs.
Screenshots.
Bank records.
The prenup.
And the phone number of attorney Rachel Monroe.
Luca noticed Phoebe.
“What are you doing?”
I stepped away from him.
His hand tightened.
“Jessi.”
I raised my voice.
“Take your hand off me.”
Two hundred people heard it.
Luca froze.
His mother, Wendy, laughed nervously.
“She’s being dramatic.”
Phoebe kept walking.
Then the ballroom manager appeared.
Behind him stood hotel security.
I had arranged that too.
Not specifically for the cake.
For anything.
Rachel had told me:
“If you decide to leave, leave where there are witnesses.”
So I did.
Luca smiled at security.
“Everything’s fine.”
I wiped blood from my lip.
“No.”
One word.
That changed the room.
“No, it isn’t.”
Phoebe handed me my phone.
I called Rachel.
“Now,” I said.
She answered:
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Did he touch you?”
I looked at Luca.
“Yes.”
“In front of witnesses?”
“About two hundred.”
Rachel became silent for half a second.
Then:
“Do not go anywhere alone with him.”
Luca heard.
His face changed.
“What the hell is this?”
I reached beneath the neckline of my dress and removed the tiny recorder.
His eyes widened.
Wendy stood.
“You recorded my son?”
“I recorded myself.”
Then the police arrived.
Not because I had called them.
One of the guests had.
A nurse from Luca’s father’s table had seen the blood and heard me tell him to let go.
Luca suddenly became charming.
“It was a wedding prank.”
The officer looked at me.
“Ma’am, do you want medical attention?”
“Yes.”
Luca stared.
“You’re seriously doing this?”
“Yes.”
Then Rachel entered the ballroom.
Phoebe had already texted her the venue.
She carried a copy of the prenup.
Wendy rolled her eyes.
“Oh, please. Marriage contracts don’t turn cake into assault.”
Rachel opened the agreement.
“No.”
Then she looked at Luca.
“But this clause does become relevant if there is verified domestic violence after legal marriage.”
His expression changed.
Because our marriage certificate had been signed thirty-seven minutes earlier.
Rachel continued:
“Section Fourteen. Immediate financial separation. Waiver of marital claim to Jessi Hart’s premarital holdings. Protective suspension of access to any corporate voting proxy derived through marriage.”
Luca looked at me.
“What corporate voting proxy?”
My stomach tightened.
I had expected anger.
Not confusion.
Then Wendy said:
“Luca, shut up.”
Too late.
I turned toward her.
“What does she know that you don’t?”
Nobody answered.
Rachel looked at me.
Then at the prenup.
Then back at Luca.
“Jessi, did anyone explain why Luca’s family insisted on the wedding happening before the quarterly shareholder meeting?”
The room became cold.
May you like
I had thought Luca wanted to marry me because he was impatient to control me.
Apparently, he had also been impatient to control something else.
