Chapter 5 - Setting the Stage
Three weeks before the wedding, the final pieces of the trap were set. The venue was the Grand Bellevue Hotel, a sprawling, historic estate with a massive ballroom that could hold three hundred guests. Claire’s family was wealthy, and they had spared no expense. Damon was the best man; I was the matron of honor.
Owen had been tasked with coordinating the tech for the reception. Because it was a high-profile wedding, he had hired a professional audiovisual crew, but he ensured that he maintained master control over the central media server from his personal laptop.
"The venue coordinator thinks the slideshow is a surprise tribute video for Claire and Owen, put together by the best man and matron of honor," Owen explained to me over our encrypted channel. "They’ve given me total access to the projection screens. Three massive, sixty-foot displays flanking the main stage."
My body was heavy now, the pregnancy advancing into the final stretch. My daughter was kicking constantly, as if she, too, could feel the rising tension in the air. Every kick reminded me of why I was doing this. I wasn’t doing it out of petty revenge; I was doing it to completely sever this toxic cancer from my daughter’s life before she was even born. I would not raise her in a home built on a foundation of psychological abuse.
The night before the wedding, we held the rehearsal dinner.
Claire was radiant in a white silk dress, her diamond ring catching the candlelight. She sat next to Owen, occasionally reaching over to pat his hand or kiss his cheek. It was a flawless performance. If I hadn't seen her hiding in my closet, if I hadn't read the texts where she called Owen a "boring, predictable clod," I would have believed she loved him.
During the toasts, Damon stood up. He raised his glass of champagne, his voice booming with confidence.
"To Owen," Damon said, looking at his best friend with an arm draped over Claire's chair. "A man of integrity. A man who found the perfect woman. Claire, you’re a sister to me, and a savior to my wife. I know that the love you two share is the kind of love that lasts a lifetime. To the bride and groom!"
The room erupted in applause. I looked across the table at Owen. He didn't blink. He raised his glass, locked eyes with Damon, and drank.
After the dinner, Claire cornered me in the restroom. She adjusted her makeup in the mirror, glancing at my large belly with a look of subtle condescension.
"Are you sure you're up for tomorrow, Elena?" she asked, her voice dripping with artificial sweet honey. "You look so tired. If the standing is too much during the ceremony, you can sit in the front row. I don't want you passing out on my big day."
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"Oh, don't worry about me, Claire," I said, stepping up beside her to wash my hands. I looked at our reflections in the mirror—the woman who thought she had stolen my life, and the woman who was about to dismantle hers. "I wouldn't miss tomorrow for the world. I have a feeling it’s going to be an absolutely unforgettable event."
Claire laughed, a tinkle of pure vanity. "It really will be. Everything is finally falling into place."
