ON MY SON’S WEDDING MORNING, OUR FAMILY DRIVER PUSHED ME INTO THE TRUNK AND THREW A BLANKET OVER …

How much Blake meant to her.

But her eyes kept wandering.

To the artwork.

To the city view.

To the expense of furnishings.

“I grew up with very little,” she’d said. “Seeing what you’ve built here. It’s inspiring.”

Then came the questions.

Too specific.

“How do you manage such a large portfolio?”

“Do you have business partners?”

“How is succession planning structured?”

My instincts whispered, Something’s wrong.

But Blake was beaming, holding her hand like she was his lifeline back to the living.

Don’t be paranoid, I told myself.

Don’t become that mother-in-law.

Bernard’s voice echoed in memory.

“Look at people’s eyes, Margot. Don’t listen to their words.”

I’d looked at Natasha’s eyes that day.

They’d been calculating.

Measuring the value of everything in that room.

But I’d ignored it.

For Blake’s happiness, I’d ignored it.

A car horn snapped me back to the present.

I blinked hard, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

Two years later, and I was driving to stop the wedding I’d allowed to happen.

The cathedral rose ahead.

Magnificent Gothic architecture against blue sky.

Cars packed the lot.

Guests in formal attire streaming toward the entrance.

Everything beautiful.

Everything perfect.

Everything a lie.

I spotted Blake’s car.

Watched him step out, adjusting his jacket, waving at guests.

He looked so much like Bernard on our wedding day.

Nervous.

Excited.

Hopeful.

My phone buzzed.

Frederick’s text.

Mr. Collins in position back corner. Zoe with him. Security aware.

Thank you, I typed.

Arriving now.

I parked.

Sat in silence.

Forcing myself to breathe.

I ignored my instincts once.

Never again.

Through the windshield, I watched Blake greeting guests, shaking hands, laughing.

He looked radiant.

Alive.

He looks just like Bernard, I whispered.

But I won’t fail him the way I almost did by staying silent.