Chloe stood motionless beside Julian, no longer looking like a queen.
The diamond necklace at her throat suddenly seemed heavy.
My father turned as if the matter no longer interested him.
That was when Julian made his worst mistake.
He grabbed Arthur’s arm.
The ballroom inhaled.
My father looked down at Julian’s hand.
Slowly, Julian released him.
“You think you can destroy me because of some domestic argument?” Julian said, his voice low and shaking. “Clarissa is my wife.”
Arthur’s face changed then.
Only slightly.
But everyone nearby felt the temperature drop.
“No,” he said. “Clarissa is your witness.”
Julian froze.
My father stepped closer.
“And perhaps your judge, before this is finished.”
At that moment, the elevator doors opened again.
I arrived wearing the same navy-blue dress.
The worn sleeves. The old fabric. The gown Chloe had mocked.
But over my shoulders was my mother’s ivory coat, brought from my father’s car. My hair was pinned back. My face was pale, yes, but steady.
