“I want to be clear, Mrs. Carter,” he said, looming over me. “I paid for this wedding. I pay for everything. Your son… he’s a nice boy, but let’s not pretend he belongs in this world. Sarah is accustomed to a certain lifestyle. When they marry, she will continue to depend on me. You best remember who is in charge here.”
I looked him in the eye, my heart pounding but my gaze steady. “I understand perfectly who thinks he is in charge.”
He laughed, a cold, dismissive sound. He had no idea what was sitting in my purse.
The wedding day arrived. Saturday. Clear skies.
I arrived at the church early. I hugged Michael. “Whatever happens today,” I told him, gripping his shoulders, “I am always on your side. Never forget that.”
He looked at me, confused. “Mom, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I lied.
The ceremony was beautiful, but to me, it felt like a play performed on a stage set to collapse. Sarah looked like an angel. Michael looked like a man in love. And Robert… Robert walked down the aisle like a king, soaking in the admiration of the crowd, unaware that the executioner was sitting in the third pew.
