The Veil in Preston's Hand
Chapter 05 - The Veil in Preston's Hand
Preston should not have looked handsome in a cemetery.
That is a terrible thing to admit, but honesty has always had poor timing.
He stood between the bare trees in his wedding tuxedo, one sleeve torn, hair loosened by the damp wind, my veil trailing from his hand like something captured.
He looked less like an abandoned groom now.
More like a man who had finally stopped pretending.
Matteo rose slowly.
Preston smiled at him.
“Careful. This is private property.”
“The dead tend to be generous about visitors.”
“Still making jokes where you're not wanted, DeLuca?”
“I wasn't joking.”
The air between them changed.
I held my mother's box against my chest and stood.
“Why are you here?”
Preston looked at me as if I had disappointed him at dinner.
“To bring back what belongs to me.”
“You mean the veil?”
“I mean my bride.”
Matteo took one step.
I moved first.
“No.”
Both men looked at me.
I kept my eyes on Preston.
“You don't get to speak to me through him.”
For a moment, I saw the old Preston. The charming one. The one who brought flowers to my father's hospital room and remembered Chloe's exam schedule and held my coat in restaurants.
He smiled gently.
“Eleanor, today was unpleasant. Emotional. We both made mistakes.”
“You tore my dress.”
“You pulled away.”
There it was.
A marriage condensed into two sentences.
I felt something inside me settle.
“Give me my veil.”
His fingers tightened around the lace.
“Come home with me.”
“I don't have a home with you.”
“My father will destroy your family.”
Matteo said, “Your father has enough trouble staying out of prison.”
Preston's jaw twitched.
He looked at my mother's box.
“What did you find?”
That was why he was here.
Not love. Not wounded pride.
Fear.
I almost laughed.
“You don't know.”
His eyes sharpened.
“Give me the box.”
“No.”
The word felt magnificent.
Preston reached into his jacket.
Matteo moved so fast I barely understood what happened until Preston's wrist was pinned downward and Enzo stepped from the shadows with two more men.
No gun appeared.
Only a phone.
Preston sneered.
“I was calling my lawyer.”
“Then he'll enjoy hearing the recording,” Matteo said.
“What recording?”
Matteo pointed toward the headstone.
A tiny black security camera had been fastened beneath the lip of the marble base, almost invisible unless you were looking.
Preston's face changed.
I looked at Matteo.
“You planted a camera on my mother's grave?”
“No,” he said. “Your mother did.”
My hands went cold.
Matteo reached down and lifted a small weatherproof cover from behind the stone.
“An old model. Updated recently.”
“By whom?”
He looked at the box.
“That's what we need to find out.”
Preston began laughing.
“You think Elise DuPont is reaching from the grave to save her daughter?”
I looked at him.
“No.”
Then I held up the key from the box.
“I think she expected men like you to underestimate women who appear quiet.”
His smile vanished.
Matteo's phone rang.
He answered without taking his eyes off Preston.
“Speak.”
A woman's voice came through, faint but urgent.
Matteo listened.
Then his gaze shifted to me.
“What?” I asked.
He ended the call.
“The key belongs to a safe-deposit box at Commonwealth Federal.”
“How do you know?”
“Because someone just tried to open it.”
Preston stepped back.
Matteo saw.
“Who?” I asked.
“My source sent a still from the bank camera.”
He turned his phone toward me.
The image was grainy, taken from above. A woman in a scarf and dark glasses stood at a counter, holding identification.
At first, I didn't understand why Matteo had gone so still.
Then the woman turned slightly toward the camera.
My knees weakened.
She had my mother's mouth.
Chloe's chin.
My own eyes.
“That isn't possible,” I whispered.
Preston said nothing.
Matteo looked from the image to him.
“You knew.”
Preston's throat moved.
“She's not who you think she is.”
I could barely hear myself.
“My mother is dead.”
Preston's answer was quiet enough to make the cemetery feel smaller.
May you like
“Then why did she ask me not to marry you?”
The key slipped from my fingers and struck the stone with a sound I would remember for the rest of my life.
