Chapter 3
Julian stood tall in the quiet parlor, the cream-colored letter clutched tightly in his right hand. He looked down at Clara, who had pulled her knees up slightly as she sat on the velvet armchair. "Who gave you this?" he asked, his voice dropping into a register that brook no argument. Clara pointed a trembling finger toward the heavy double doors that led out into the grand hall. "Mommy did," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the distant hum of the wedding guests outside. "She gave it to me right before she put on her veil. She said... she said I'm too much trouble for a new life." Julian’s jaw tightened. The implication hung in the air like poison. Elena, the woman who had smiled so warmly at dinner parties and charity galas, had planned to quietly discard her own daughter the moment the legal paperwork was signed and the vows were exchanged. Julian felt a sick sensation churn in his stomach. He remembered all the times Clara had been sent away to boarding school or left with various nannies during their engagement, but he had always believed Elena’s excuses about elite education and discipline. Now, looking at the tear-stained face of the little girl he had come to love as his own, the truth settled in with brutal clarity. He turned toward the massive double doors, through which he could see the distant glimmer of the crystal chandelier hanging over the foyer. The bishop was waiting in the chapel, the organist was running through a final rehearsal scale, and hundreds of society guests were sitting in rows of white-ribboned pews. But none of that mattered anymore. Julian took a deep breath, smoothing the front of his white jacket, and began to walk toward the doors with a measured, deliberate stride.
