Chapter 8
The most disturbing discovery came from Rosalie’s phone.
She had recorded one conversation.
Not to expose Bianca.
To protect herself.
Bianca’s voice was clear.
“If she cries during the ceremony, take her upstairs.”
Rosalie answered:
“She’s the flower girl.”
“She’s a child.”
“What if Alessandro asks?”
“Tell him she got overwhelmed.”
Then Bianca laughed.
“He’ll believe anything if you say it’s about Livia’s feelings.”
I stopped the recording.
Rosalie looked ashamed.
“I should have shown you.”
“Yes.”
No comfort.
Not yet.
“But you kept it.”
She nodded.
“Why?”
“Because I started thinking maybe I wasn’t imagining it.”
That sentence stayed with me.
Bianca had been manipulating the adults around Livia too.
Not only the child.
Rosalie doubted herself.
The planner believed my approval.
Staff followed instructions.
Everyone had a reason not to confront the bride days before the wedding.
Bianca relied on social momentum.
Once a wedding becomes large enough, people begin protecting the event from the truth.
I looked at her.
“You thought nobody would stop you this close to the ceremony.”
She said nothing.
“That’s why today.”
Nothing.
“The clippers.”
Her jaw tightened.
She had chosen the bridal suite because preparations were already in motion.
Guests arriving.
Photographers scheduled.
Money spent.
Families gathered.
She expected everyone—including me—to prioritize avoiding scandal.
I almost admired the arrogance.
“You thought I’d see Livia’s hair and still marry you because canceling would be embarrassing.”
Bianca finally spoke.
“You are throwing away an alliance over hair.”
I stared.
“No.”
I pointed toward the packed boxes.
“The hair just made me look.”
Her face changed.
That was what terrified her.
May you like
Not the broken engagement.
Exposure of everything underneath it.
