Chapter 7: The Corridor Outside the Bridal Suite
Patricia's office was on the fourteenth floor of a building my father had owned for eleven years.
I had been here twice before.
Once when I was nineteen, sitting in the waiting room while my father signed something.
Once last year, when I had quietly updated my own legal documents before the baby came.
Patricia met me at the elevator.
She was carrying a tablet and a paper cup of coffee she hadn't drunk.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Show me the footage."
She showed me the footage.
The corridor outside the bridal suite was narrow, carpeted in deep burgundy, lit by wall sconces that gave everything a slightly golden cast.
The timestamp in the corner read 2:14 PM — forty-three minutes before the ceremony began.
Eleanor stood with her back to the camera.
Amanda faced her.
There was no audio on the corridor feed.
But Patricia had a second window open on the tablet — a transcript.
"Lip reader," Patricia said.
"We use one for exactly this kind of situation.
She reviewed the footage this morning."
I looked at the transcript.
ELEANOR: *It has to be tonight.
Before the dinner ends.*
AMANDA: *What if she calls someone?*
ELEANOR: *She won't.
She never does.
That's the whole point.*
AMANDA: *And if the cameras—*
ELEANOR: *There are no cameras in that corner.
I checked the layout three weeks ago.*
A pause.
Amanda looked down at her purse.
ELEANOR: *After tonight, Griffin's family will have documentation.
Chloe will have grounds.
And Dominic will finally understand what kind of woman he married.*
AMANDA: *What about the baby?*
ELEANOR: *What about it?*
I stopped reading.
"She checked the camera layout three weeks ago," I said.
"Yes."
"This was planned.
Not impulsive.
Not Chloe reacting badly in the moment." I set the tablet down on Patricia's desk.
"Eleanor planned this.
She planned it at least three weeks in advance."
"Yes," Patricia said again.
"And she got the camera position wrong."
"By approximately four meters." Patricia allowed herself a very small smile.
"The venue rearranged their security setup after a theft incident in March.
The updated layout wasn't public."
I looked out the window at the city below.
"What does this mean legally?" I asked.
Patricia sat down.
"It means the ring incident was not a spontaneous accusation.
It was a coordinated attempt to publicly defame you and establish a false public record that could be used to support the annulment petition." She opened a folder.
"That moves this from a family dispute into potential civil territory.
Defamation.
Intentional infliction of emotional distress.
Possibly conspiracy to commit fraud, depending on what Amanda's statement says."
"Amanda gave a statement?"
"Last night.
Willingly, as you suggested." Patricia glanced at her notes.
"She confirmed that Eleanor approached her six weeks ago.
She was told that you were planning to make a legal claim against the family estate after the birth, and that the goal was to discredit you before you could act.
She was told the cameras in that corner were not active."
"She believed Eleanor."
"She did.
She also says she didn't know about the annulment petition.
She thought it was about discrediting you socially, not legally." Patricia paused.
"She seemed genuinely disturbed when she found out about the petition."
I thought about what Amanda had said in the ballroom.
*She genuinely believes you're a threat.*
"What does Eleanor want?" I asked.
"Underneath all of this.
What is she actually afraid of?"
Patricia considered the question.
"My read?
She's afraid of losing Dominic.
Not to you specifically.
To the idea that he has a life she can't control." She set down her pen.
"The investigation, the petition, the ring — none of it was really about your money or your family.
It was about making sure that if Dominic ever had to choose, he would choose her."
I sat with that for a moment.
"She's been doing this for three years," I said.
"Longer, I suspect.
This is just the first time she miscalculated."
My phone buzzed on the desk.
I glanced at it.
Dominic.
*She's here.
At the house.
She wants to talk to me.
I told her I needed to speak to you first.
She's not leaving.*
I typed back: *Don't let her leave.*
Then I stood up.
"Patricia," I said.
"I need you to come with me."
"Where are we going?"
"To have a conversation with Eleanor." I picked up my coat.
"Bring the transcript."
Patricia closed her folder and stood without hesitation.
In the elevator going down, she said, "Vivienne.
Whatever you're planning to say to her — be careful.
Anything said in that room today could become part of the record."
"I know," I said.
"So you want it on the record."
May you like
I looked at the elevator doors.
"Every word," I said.
