Chapter 4 - Why I Hid My Name
Dominic followed us into the private bridal lounge.
My father did not invite him.
He came anyway.
“Vivienne, we need to talk privately.”
Dad closed the door in his face.
I sat on the sofa while a female hotel manager brought me a robe and helped pin my damaged dress.
My hands had begun shaking.
I hated that.
Not because I was afraid.
Because the shock was finally reaching me.
Dad sat across from me.
“You should have called sooner.”
“I know.”
“Why didn't you?”
I looked toward the mirror.
Because admitting the truth would mean admitting I had been wrong.
Three years earlier, I had begged my family to let me build a life without the Whitaker name.
I had watched wealthy men change the instant they learned who my father was.
Smiles became sweeter.
Invitations multiplied.
Suddenly everyone loved the same books I loved.
Dominic had been different.
At least I thought he had.
We met when I was working under my mother's maiden name at a small nonprofit foundation.
I never lied about having family.
I simply never explained the scale of it.
When Dominic proposed, I told him my parents were financially comfortable and extremely private.
He said it didn't matter.
“I love you, not your family.”
I believed him.
After we married, his mother began mocking my clothes.
Chloe made jokes about my “discount-store upbringing.”
Dominic always apologized afterward.
Never during.
Dad leaned back.
“You were testing him.”
“At first.”
“And later?”
I looked down.
“Later I was ashamed to admit I had married someone who wouldn't defend me unless we were alone.”
Dad's expression softened.
There was no satisfaction in his eyes.
That made it worse.
A knock came at the door.
Malcolm entered.
“Sir.”
He handed my father a folder.
“We found something else.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“The theft setup wasn't the only unusual activity captured tonight.”
He placed several printed images on the table.
One showed Dominic entering the hotel's restricted administrative hallway two hours before the ceremony.
Another showed Chloe beside him.
A third showed them meeting a man I recognized immediately.
Gerald Pike.
Dominic's family attorney.
Dad's eyes narrowed.
“That hallway leads to the executive records suite.”
Malcolm nodded.
“Someone used an unauthorized access credential.”
My heart stopped.
The black electronic card Chloe had dumped from my purse suddenly flashed through my mind.
The card she had not recognized.
The card granting me executive access to every Whitaker property.
I looked at Malcolm.
“Was my credential used?”
He hesitated.
“Yes.”
“At 5:14 p.m.”
I had been upstairs getting dressed at 5:14.
And my card had never left my purse.
Which meant someone had copied it.
Dominic had not simply planned to humiliate me.
May you like
He had been trying to reach something inside my father's hotel.
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