I looked at my mother.
She gave me the smallest nod.
Then I turned back to Diane.
“I think I finally do.”
My father took my arm.
We walked out.
But as I stepped through the doors, my phone vibrated.
One message.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
There was no greeting.
No explanation.
Just one sentence.
DON’T GO HOME TONIGHT.
Then another message appeared.
THEY KNOW ABOUT THE SECOND PROPERTY.
I stopped walking.
My father noticed.
“What is it?”
I looked at my mother.
She saw my expression.
“What happened?”
I turned the phone toward her.
She read the message.
Her face went completely white.
“The second property?” I whispered.
My mother looked at my father.
Neither of them spoke.
And suddenly I realized there was something else my parents had never told me.
Something even bigger than the $5 million condo.
Something Mark’s family apparently knew existed.
And someone was warning me that tonight’s disaster was only the beginning.
PART 4
My father stared at the message on my phone for almost ten seconds.
Then he looked at my mother.
“Who else knows about that property?”
My mother didn’t answer.
That frightened me more than anything that had happened at the wedding.
“Mom?”
She slowly sat down on the bench outside the ballroom.
My father closed the doors behind us.
The music from the reception became muffled.
The laughter disappeared.
For the first time that night, the three of us were completely alone.
“What second property?” I asked.
My mother looked at me.
“It was supposed to be a surprise.”
“A surprise?”
She nodded.
“Your father and I bought it for you two years ago.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“It isn’t in Manhattan.”
“Where is it?”
My father answered this time.
“Connecticut.”
I blinked.
“Connecticut?”
“A small estate outside Greenwich.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“How much?”
My father hesitated.
“About eight million dollars.”
I actually laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because my brain couldn’t process it.
“You bought an eight-million-dollar property and never told me?”
“It was meant to be placed into a trust for you.”
“Why?”
My mother looked at me.
“Because we wanted you to have somewhere that was completely yours.”
I shook my head.
“And Mark knew?”
“No.”
“Diane?”
My father answered immediately.
“No.”
“Then who sent that message?”
Nobody spoke.
My phone vibrated again.
This time, there was a photograph.
I opened it.
My blood ran cold.
It showed the Connecticut property.
Taken from across the road.
The message beneath it said:
THEY’RE ALREADY THERE.
My father stood.
“We’re leaving.”
We drove in silence.
My father drove.
My mother sat beside him.
I sat in the back, still wearing my wedding dress.
I kept staring at the photograph.
The house in the picture looked peaceful.
White stone.
Black shutters.
Tall trees surrounding it.
A long driveway.
It was beautiful.
And apparently someone had been watching it.
After nearly two hours, we reached the property.
My father stopped the car before the gate.
The security lights were on.
My mother looked at me.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Sophie—”
“No.”
I opened the door.
“If someone is inside my property, I’m going with you.”
My father didn’t argue.
We walked toward the gate.
The keypad had been damaged.
The camera above it was hanging sideways.
My father cursed under his breath.
We entered.
The house looked untouched from the outside.
But the front door was unlocked.
My father pushed it open.
“Hello?”
Nothing.
We entered.
The lights were off.
My mother reached for my hand.
Then we heard a sound upstairs.
A drawer opening.
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