Chapter 4

The family found out, of course. A maid saw the beautiful, simple dress I was crafting by hand and reported it.

They stormed into my little room, their faces contorted with rage.

"What is the meaning of this?" Richard bellowed, holding up the delicate sleeve of the dress as if it were a venomous snake.

"Are you insane?" Eleanor shrieked. "Are you planning to crash Cassandra's wedding? To humiliate us in front of everyone?"

"I knew it," Julian spat, his face dark with fury. "I knew you couldn't be trusted. You're just a selfish, vindictive little brat."

They accused me of trying to steal Cassandra's spotlight, of plotting to ruin the most important day of her life. They didn't listen to my denials. They never listened.

They placed me under house arrest, locking the door to my room in the servants' quarters and posting a guard outside. They took the dress, vowing to burn it.

But Sarah was clever. She had anticipated this. The dress they took was a decoy she had helped me create. The real one, the one I had poured all my hopes into, was hidden safely away.

I remained serene. I sat in my small, damp room and waited. Let them think they had won. Let them prepare for Cassandra's grand wedding. My groom was not Carter. My wedding venue was not a cathedral.

My time was coming.

On the morning of the wedding, Julian felt a strange pang of guilt. The mansion was buzzing with excitement, florists and caterers rushing about. Cassandra was ecstatic, a vision in her designer gown. But the image of me, pale and defiant in that dreary little room, kept flashing in his mind.

As a peace offering, a way to soothe his conscience, he decided to have a designer dress sent to my room. A consolation prize.

He called for a maid. "Take this to Miss Elena's room."

The maid, a new girl who didn't know the family's twisted dynamics, looked confused. "But sir," she asked innocently, "Isn't Miss Elena getting married today too?"

Julian froze. "What did you say?"

"Her friend, Sarah, was just telling me about it," the maid continued, oblivious to the storm gathering in Julian's eyes. "She said Miss Elena's groom is coming for her today at the old sacred oak in the bayou."

A cold dread washed over Julian. The sacred oak. The heart of the swamp.

At that moment, a friend of his, a man named Liam, came rushing up to him. Julian had paid Liam and his friends to go to the cabin, to "scare" me a little, to make sure I understood the threat was real.

"Julian, man, I'm so sorry," Liam said, looking pale and sick. "I couldn't make it last week. Got a nasty case of the flu. I sent a message to your family's office saying we couldn't go, but I wanted to tell you in person."

Julian stared at him, his blood running cold. "You... you never went to the cabin?"

"No, none of us did," Liam confirmed. "Why? Did something happen?"

Julian stumbled back, horrified. The squatters. They were real. He had left me there with real, dangerous men. He had almost gotten me killed.

A frantic shout echoed down the hall. A maid came running, her face white with panic.

"Mr. Sinclair! It's Miss Elena! She's gone! She put on a wedding dress and she's heading for the bayou!"