Chapter 5 - The Security Footage
The video showed me entering the pharmacy.
That part was real.
I recognized my dress.
My handbag.
My hair.
The timestamp matched.
2:14 p.m.
The camera then showed me walking toward the prescription counter.
Also real.
I had gone there to pick up migraine medication.
Then the video jumped.
2:23 p.m.
A woman resembling me stood at the counter.
Same clothing.
Same hairstyle.
She appeared to receive a tiny bottle from a pharmacy employee.
The image was grainy.
Her face turned away from the camera.
Price replayed it.
“That isn’t me.”
Anton looked closer.
“Could be.”
I turned sharply.
He immediately corrected himself.
“I mean physically.”
“Wonderful.”
“Clara.”
“No, say it.”
Rebecca interrupted.
“Arguments help whoever created this.”
She pointed at the timestamp.
“There’s a nine-minute gap.”
Price nodded.
“We noticed.”
“Why?”
“Camera interruption.”
“Convenient.”
Price agreed.
The pharmacy’s payment record showed cash.
No receipt under my name.
No prescription.
Which meant the footage suggested a purchase without proving one.
Rebecca asked for the original security files.
Detective Price said they would obtain them.
Then Anton’s phone rang again.
His company’s chief financial officer.
Anton answered.
I watched his face tighten.
“What happened?”
He turned away.
“No.”
Pause.
“Freeze everything.”
Another pause.
“How much?”
Silence.
When he hung up, his expression had changed completely.
“Someone transferred twelve million dollars from a Valdez family investment account.”
Marcus stared.
“When?”
“Forty minutes ago.”
Rebecca asked, “Whose authorization?”
Anton looked at me.
“Mine.”
“But you didn’t authorize it.”
“No.”
The transfer required two electronic signatures.
Anton’s.
And mine.
My mouth went dry.
“I don’t have access to your accounts.”
“After the wedding ceremony, you technically do.”
I stared at him.
“You never told me that either.”
“There wasn’t supposed to be immediate access.”
“Yet someone used my name.”
Rebecca understood first.
“The forged marital paperwork.”
Anton nodded.
Someone had planned to make it appear that I married Anton.
Stole twelve million dollars.
Then disappeared overseas.
The sedative suddenly made perfect sense.
I was not merely supposed to miss part of my wedding reception.
I was supposed to wake up somewhere else.
Perhaps drugged.
Confused.
Maybe with no idea how I got there.
While evidence accumulated behind me.
It was an elegant crime.
Destroy the marriage.
Preserve Carmela’s control.
Steal millions.
Blame me.
Then vanish me.
Detective Price received another call.
He stepped away.
When he returned, he seemed more serious.
“The money went to a holding company registered in Panama.”
“Owner?”
“Hidden.”
Rebecca asked, “Can it be stopped?”
“Possibly.”
Anton looked at me.
“I need to go to the office.”
“No.”
Everyone looked at me.
I had surprised myself.
Anton frowned.
“My company could lose twelve million dollars.”
“And somebody wants us separated.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying this happens the moment you leave me alone.”
“I’m not leaving you alone.”
“Then I’m coming.”
He hesitated.
I saw the hesitation.
After the messages about Sofia, I understood why.
Neither of us fully trusted the other.
That hurt more than anything Carmela had done.
We had been married less than eight hours.
Already someone had managed to put suspicion between us.
Then Marcus’s phone buzzed.
He read something.
His face changed.
“What?”
He turned the screen toward us.
Someone had posted a video online.
The title read:
BRIDE DRUGS BILLIONAIRE MOTHER-IN-LAW AT LUXURY WEDDING.
My stomach dropped.
The video began with Carmela collapsing.
Then showed me smiling.
The footage was edited.
My glass switch was missing.
The bottle falling from Carmela’s purse was missing.
Someone had created a perfect thirty-second narrative.
The greedy bride.
The wealthy family.
The drugged mother.
Within four minutes, the video had more than sixty thousand views.
My wedding was becoming a public scandal.
But the worst part came at the end.
A second clip played.
Security footage.
Me carrying the black suitcase into the bridal suite.
Except I had never touched it.
I stared at the screen.
The woman looked exactly like me.
Same hair.
Same wedding robe I had worn that morning.
Same height.
Same face.
Anton whispered, “Clara…”
I looked closer.
Then I saw it.
A scar near the woman’s wrist.
May you like
A tiny crescent.
My sister Elena had the exact same scar.
