Chapter 2 The White Dress

# Chapter 2: The White Dress

One week can change everything. Seven days of meticulous planning, of steadying my trembling hands each time my phone buzzes with wedding updates from Rebecca. Seven nights of staring at my ceiling, rehearsing the moment when I would finally step out of the shadows.

The day of Corwin's wedding to Elysia Montgomery dawns bright and clear—the kind of perfect September day that wedding planners dream about. The Plaza Hotel, decorated with thousands of white roses and crystal chandeliers, hosts the social event of the season. Politicians, business tycoons, and celebrities fill the grand ballroom, their excitement palpable.

None of them know I exist. Not really. To most, I'm just a business associate, a peripheral figure in Corwin's empire. To a select few, I'm a problem solver who appears when needed and fades away just as quickly.

Today, that changes.

"Are you absolutely certain about this?" Alaric's voice is steady in my earpiece as I sit in the back of a black town car circling the block. "Once we cross this line, there's no turning back."

Alaric Donovan—Corwin's longtime business rival and, for the past six months, my silent partner in what's about to unfold. Tall, with sharp features and calculating blue eyes that miss nothing, he's built his empire through strategy rather than Corwin's charm and connections. They've been enemies since their Harvard days, though few know the personal betrayal that started their feud.

"I've been turning back for ten years," I reply, smoothing the fabric of my dress. "I'm done."

The dress. A custom Givenchy in pristine white, more elegant than provocative, with a simplicity that would make fashion editors weep. Not a wedding dress, not exactly—but close enough to send a message. My scarlet lipstick is the only splash of color I allow myself.

"You look perfect," says my stylist, Vivian, giving my hair one final touch. "Like you're about to burn down the world with class."

That's exactly what I intend to do.

The car stops at the hotel entrance. I take a deep breath, slip the flash drive into my clutch, and step out. The doorman doesn't recognize me, but my name is on the list—courtesy of Rebecca, who believes I'm attending to handle some last-minute business crisis for Corwin.

If only she knew.

The ceremony has just concluded, and guests are flooding into the reception hall. I time my entrance perfectly—after the bride and groom have made their grand appearance, after the initial champagne toast, when the celebration is in full swing and security has relaxed.

I pause at the entrance, and the first person to notice me is Elysia's mother, Senator Montgomery. Her champagne glass freezes halfway to her lips. Then others turn, conversations faltering like dominoes as awareness ripples through the crowd.

I walk forward, the sea of guests parting before me. There's something almost biblical about the moment—this woman in white, uninvited yet unstoppable, moving toward the center of the room where Corwin stands with his bride.

Elysia notices me first. She's beautiful in her designer gown, with her perfect upbringing and political connections. Everything Corwin told me he needed that I couldn't provide. Her smile falters as she registers my presence, then the color of my dress, then the absolute silence that has fallen over the room.

And then Corwin turns.

The blood drains from his face so quickly I fear he might faint. Fear, recognition, and panic flash across his features in rapid succession before he composes himself, the consummate performer even now.

"Marcelline," he says, his voice admirably steady despite the slight tremor in his hand. "What a surprise."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," I reply, my voice carrying in the silent room. "After all, we have so much history together."

Elysia's perfect eyebrows draw together. "Corwin, who is this?"

Before he can answer, I extend my hand to her. "Marcelline Foster. Your husband and I have been... intimately acquainted for the past ten years."

The murmurs start instantly, a wave of whispers cascading through the ballroom. Elysia's face hardens as she looks from me to Corwin, whose mask of confidence is rapidly crumbling.

"What is the meaning of this?" Senator Montgomery steps forward, her voice low but dangerous. "Security!"

"I wouldn't," comes a calm voice from behind me. Alaric Donovan walks to my side, his presence causing another ripple of shock through the crowd. "Ms. Foster is an invited guest, and I believe she has something important to share with the bride."

Corwin's eyes dart between us, realization dawning. "You and Donovan?" he hisses. "What the hell is this?"

I ignore him, focusing instead on Elysia, whose composed exterior can't quite hide her growing distress. "He once claimed he belonged to me," I tell her softly. "Every night for ten years. Even last week, after your engagement party."

Her perfect smile shatters, replaced by something hard and cold. "Is this true, Corwin?"

He reaches for damage control. "Elysia, darling, this is a business rival trying to—"

"Don't insult her intelligence as well as her trust," I interrupt, opening my clutch. "You've done enough damage today."

I pull out the flash drive and walk to the DJ's booth where a large screen displays wedding photos. The DJ, confused by the unfolding drama, hesitates until Alaric slips him what I assume is a significant amount of cash.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I announce as I connect the drive, "I believe in informed decisions. Something the bride has been denied."

The screen flickers, then displays emails, text messages, photos—a decade of evidence. Corwin promising me forever. Corwin in my bed the night after his engagement. Corwin's financial records showing how he's used my expertise to cover illegal dealings. The gasps are audible as years of secrets materialize before the city's elite.

"Stop this immediately!" Corwin lunges toward the booth, but two of Alaric's security men—positioned earlier—block his path.

Elysia stands frozen, her expression shifting from shock to disgust to rage as the evidence of her husband's betrayal plays out before her and four hundred of their closest friends.

"You kept me in the shadows for ten years," I say, my voice clear despite the chaos erupting around us. "You made me believe I wasn't enough—not polished enough, not connected enough, not worthy of standing beside you in the light."

The final image appears on screen—Corwin and me at his family's Hamptons estate last summer, his mother's ring on my finger as he promised "soon." The same vintage diamond now adorning Elysia's hand.

"I thought I was fighting for our love," I continue, addressing not just Corwin but the entire stunned assembly. "But I was just convenient. A tool. A silent slave to your ambition."

Elysia yanks the ring from her finger and throws it at Corwin's chest. "You disgust me," she spits before turning to her father. "Get me out of here."

As security finally manages to shut down the presentation, I lock eyes with Corwin one last time. The man who once seemed larger than life now looks small, desperate, his carefully constructed world collapsing around him.

"This is just the beginning," I say quietly, ensuring only he can hear me. "The SEC receives the financial records tomorrow. The board gets the evidence of your embezzlement the day after."

His face, already pale, turns ashen. "Marcelline, please—"

I turn away, taking Alaric's offered arm. As we walk out through the stunned crowd, I feel lighter than I have in years. The whispers follow us, but for once, I'm not hiding in the shadows.

I am the story.