Chapter 1 - THE MAN UPSTAIRS
My four-year-old daughter found the phone that destroyed my wedding.
Then the phone buzzed.
Why did you stop the wedding? I’m already upstairs.
I read the message twice.
The first time, I thought I had misunderstood it.
The second time, every hair on my arms stood up.
Behind me, Amanda stood in her wedding dress, white as the flowers lining the ballroom downstairs.
“Sophie,” I said quietly. “Come here.”
My daughter ran to me.
She buried her face against my leg and wrapped both arms around me.
Amanda took one step forward.
“Ryan, give me the phone.”
I looked at her.
“No.”
Her face changed.
Not dramatically.
That was what scared me.
For ten months, Amanda had been warm, patient, funny. She had packed Sophie’s lunches. She had learned how Sophie liked the hallway light left on at night. She had sat on the bathroom floor when Sophie had the flu.
Now there was nothing warm in her expression.
“Ryan,” she repeated, “you don’t understand what you’re looking at.”
“I understand this.”
I held up the screen.
Photos of my house.
Bank documents.
A scan of my signature.
A message discussing paperwork I was supposedly going to sign after the ceremony.
And the recording Sophie had found.
Amanda’s own voice.
After the wedding, I’ll send her away.
My stomach twisted every time I heard it.
“You said you were sending my daughter away.”
Amanda stared at Sophie.
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like?”
The phone vibrated again.
Answer me.
I turned toward the hallway.
The bridal suite occupied the top floor of the Ashford Hotel. There were six rooms up there, along with a private lounge, storage area, and service staircase.
Someone connected to this scheme was nearby.
I pulled out my own phone.
Amanda moved fast.
She lunged.
Not toward me.
Toward Sophie.
I caught Amanda by the wrist before she reached her.
“Don’t touch her.”
“Ryan, listen to me.”
Sophie screamed.
The sound snapped something inside me.
I shoved Amanda back and called hotel security.
“Top floor,” I said. “Now. Lock the elevators.”
Amanda’s eyes widened.
“No.”
That one word told me everything.
I grabbed Sophie and moved toward the bridal suite.
Amanda blocked the door.
“You cannot call security.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll make this worse.”
“For who?”
She didn’t answer.
Footsteps sounded at the far end of the hallway.
Slow.
Measured.
Coming from the service stairs.
Amanda turned.
Her entire face drained of color.
A man stepped around the corner wearing a dark gray suit.
I had never seen him before.
But judging by Amanda’s expression, she knew exactly who he was.
He looked at me.
Then at Sophie.
Then at the phone in my hand.
“You were supposed to be downstairs,” Amanda whispered.
The man smiled.
“No,” he said.
His eyes stayed on me.
“He was.”
May you like
And then he reached inside his jacket.
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