Chapter 3 - THE PHOTOGRAPH
Vivienne opened her mouth.
Bianca cut her off.
“My mother is stressed.”
“Stop.”
Alessandro’s voice was low enough to make both women go still.
He had spent years negotiating contracts worth hundreds of millions of dollars. He knew what people looked like when they were hiding something.
Bianca was hiding something.
Vivienne was terrified of it.
“What wasn’t supposed to happen today?” he asked again.
Vivienne swallowed.
“The hair.”
Alessandro stared at her.
Bianca rushed forward.
“Oh my God. This is ridiculous.”
Vivienne’s hands began to shake.
“She wasn’t supposed to cut it until after the ceremony.”
Alessandro felt something cold crawl through his chest.
“Why was she supposed to cut it at all?”
Bianca threw up her hands.
“Because it was damaged!”
“No, it wasn’t,” Rosalie said from behind them.
Everyone turned.
She had returned alone.
“Livia’s with the nanny.”
Bianca glared.
“Were you listening?”
“Yes.”
Rosalie walked in holding a glossy photo.
“And I found this under Bianca’s makeup case.”
She handed it to Alessandro.
It was a printed inspiration board for the wedding.
Flowers.
Table settings.
Dresses.
Hairstyles.
And in the center was a picture of Livia.
Someone had digitally altered it.
Her long brown hair had been changed into a short blonde bob.
Underneath, handwritten in black ink, were the words:
FIX BEFORE FAMILY PHOTOS.
Alessandro looked up.
Bianca’s face was rigid.
“Explain.”
“It’s a styling note.”
“For my daughter?”
“For our wedding.”
“She isn’t a decoration.”
“I never said she was.”
“You wrote ‘fix’ across her face.”
Bianca’s temper finally broke.
“Because she refuses to cooperate with anything!”
Alessandro stared at her.
“She’s a child.”
“She is your child,” Bianca shot back. “And everything has to revolve around her.”
The room went dead quiet.
There it was.
Not a misunderstanding.
Not wedding stress.
Resentment.
Old and ugly.
Bianca realized too late what she had said.
She softened her voice.
“That came out wrong.”
“No,” Alessandro said. “I think it came out exactly right.”
She reached for him.
He stepped back.
“You’ve been competing with my daughter.”
“That’s absurd.”
“Is it?”
Bianca’s eyes flashed.
“You don’t know what it’s like.”
“What what is like?”
“To be second place in my own relationship!”
Alessandro stared at her.
Rosalie whispered, “Wow.”
Bianca pointed toward the door.
“Every vacation, she comes first. Every dinner, if she’s upset, we leave. Every plan gets changed because Livia needs something.”
“She’s my daughter.”
“And I’m supposed to be your wife!”
“Not yet.”
The words landed hard.
Bianca’s expression changed.
Then Alessandro looked back at the altered photograph.
There was something behind it.
A second sheet of paper.
He pulled it free.
It was not another wedding photo.
It was a copy of a boarding school application.
Livia Moretti.
May you like
Applicant.
And at the bottom, beneath a forged signature, was Alessandro’s name.
