Chapter 2: The Secret Behind The Torn Lace
The silence between them grew heavier.
Enzo had faced armed enemies.
Betrayals.
Death threats.
But Harper’s fear confused him more than any enemy ever had.
Because she wasn’t afraid of him.
She was afraid of what would happen next.
“You think I’m going to hurt you?” Enzo asked.
Harper quickly looked away.
“I don’t know what people like you do.”
People like you.
The words stayed in his mind.
Before he could respond, Harper stepped backward.
Her wedding gown caught on the sharp edge of an antique chair.
The sound was small.
But in the quiet room, it felt like an explosion.
The silk tore.
Pearls scattered across the marble floor.
Harper gasped and immediately grabbed the torn fabric, covering herself.
“Don’t look.”
Her voice cracked.
But Enzo had already seen it.
Not her body.
Something else.
A small mark hidden beneath the lace.
A symbol.
A symbol only one family knew.
The DeLuca family crest.
Enzo froze.
Impossible.
That mark belonged to his mother.
A woman who died twenty-five years ago.
A woman whose daughter disappeared the same night she was murdered.
“What is that?” Enzo whispered.
Harper’s face changed.
Fear turned into shock.
“You know?”
Enzo grabbed the torn fabric carefully.
“Where did you get this?”
Harper stepped away.
“My father told me never to show anyone.”
The room suddenly felt colder.
“Your father knew?”
Harper nodded slowly.
“He told me it was a birthmark.”
Enzo’s jaw tightened.
“No.”
His voice became darker.
“It isn’t.”
Harper looked at him.
“What is it?”
Enzo stared at the symbol.
The woman he thought was his enemy was standing in front of him carrying the biggest secret his family had ever buried.
“You weren’t sent here to destroy my family.”
Harper’s eyes filled with confusion.
“Then why?”
Enzo looked at her.
“Because you are part of it.”
A long silence followed.
Then Harper whispered:
“My father always told me I was worthless.”
Enzo looked at her.
“He told me I was nothing but a debt he had to pay.”
Something inside Enzo broke.
Because suddenly everything made sense.
Richard Whitcomb did not send his daughter as a weapon.
He sent her away because he was hiding what she truly was.
The missing DeLuca heir.
The daughter everyone believed was dead.
But before Enzo could ask more, his phone rang.
One name appeared.
His uncle.
The head of the DeLuca organization.
Enzo answered.
The voice on the other side was cold.
“Enzo…”
A pause.
“Who is the woman standing beside you?”
Enzo looked at Harper.
“How do you know?”
The answer came quietly.
“Because if she is who I think she is…”
A deep breath.
“Your father’s killer will come back tonight.”
The call ended.
And Enzo realized one thing.
May you like
The wedding was never about revenge.
It was the beginning of a war.
