Chapter 8 - Falling Dominoes
As Julian and I turned toward the grand mahogany doors, the ballroom descended into complete, unadulterated pandemonium.
“Wait! Clara, wait!”
It was Sophie’s voice, but stripped of all its usual sugary sweet manipulation. She was crawling across the parquet floor, her heavy silk train bunching up behind her like an anchor. Her hands were clutching at the red soles of my shoes.
“Clara, please! You can’t do this to me!” she wailed, tears carving deep, ugly tracks through her foundation. “Chad’s father is talking about an annulment! He’s telling the priest the marriage wasn't consummated and the contract was signed under false pretenses! Chad won't even look at me! Clara, you’re my sister! You’re supposed to protect me!”
I stopped. I didn't turn around immediately.
Julian paused beside me, his hand resting lightly against the small of my back, giving me the space to deliver the final blow or walk away. He was not my savior; he was my partner, my equal, the steel at my back while I wielded the blade.
I turned around slowly, looking down at my younger sister.
“Protect you?” I asked, my voice dangerously calm. “When have you ever protected me, Sophie?”
“I... I’m your little sister!” she stammered, looking up with wide, pleading eyes. “I was just following Dad’s lead! You know how Dad gets! If I didn't play along, he would have treated me the same way he treated you!”
“And there it is,” I whispered.
The entire front row of guests heard it.
“You knew,” I said. “You always knew Graham was cruel. You always knew he was abusive. But as long as his fists and his mockery were pointed at me, you didn't care. In fact, you cheered him on, didn't you? Because every insult he threw at me was another diamond he bought for you.”
I leaned down slightly, looking directly into her frantic, hollow eyes.
“You wore Grandma’s sapphire pendant tonight, Sophie,” I said, pointing to the delicate blue jewel resting against her bare throat.
Sophie’s hand flew to her neck, covering the pendant defensively.
“Take it off,” I said.
“No!” she cried out, her voice cracking. “Grandma would have wanted me to have it! I’m the bride!”
“Grandma Hart died holding my hand in a public hospice ward while you and Graham were in Aspen on a ski trip,” I said, every word hitting her with the force of a lead pipe. “She wrote my name into the deed of trust for that pendant. Take it off, Sophie. Or Marcus will have the sheriff remove it as stolen property the moment you step out of this building.”
Sophie looked around frantically. She looked at Chad, who turned his back on her completely, staring at the floor. She looked at Eleanor, who was rocking back and forth on a banquet chair, muttering to herself in shock. She looked at Graham, who had slumped into a corner table, staring blankly at an empty bread basket.
No one was coming to save her.
Sobbing violently, her trembling fingers fumbled with the clasp at the nape of her neck. The gold chain snagged in her styled hair, pulling out several pins and ruining the elaborate updo, but she yanked it free, crying out in pain as hair tore with it.
She held out the sapphire pendant in her shaking, open palm.
I didn't take it from her hand. I signaled Marcus, who produced a clean velvet pouch. Marcus took the pendant from Sophie’s fingers, dropped it into the pouch, and sealed it.
“The townhouse you’re planning to move into on Elm Street?” I added, my voice smooth and indifferent. “The one Dad told you was a wedding gift from his holding company?”
Sophie froze, her breath catching in her throat. “What about it?”
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“It belongs to Vance Global,” I said. “The lease terminates at midnight tonight. The locks will be changed by sunrise. I suggest you call an Uber, Sophie. Because the limousine idling out front was billed to my corporate card, and I just canceled the reservation.”
***
