Chapter 22 - THE NIGHT BEFORE THE WEDDING WAS SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN
The rehearsal dinner date remained on Dominic’s calendar.
He forgot to remove it.
At 6:00 p.m., his phone displayed:
RINALDI-SLOANE REHEARSAL — LANGHAM CHICAGO.
He stared.
The suite would have been full of flowers.
Champagne.
Families.
Bianca in white.
Instead, Dominic sat in the library with Serena Conti, Martin Bell, Elena Rinaldi, and a stack of revised household governance documents.
No violence.
No dramatic criminal entourage.
No threats.
Paper.
Bianca had once believed power was the man in the black suit.
Dominic was beginning to understand power was often the process underneath him.
Elena read the revised guardian nomination.
“You’re keeping me?”
“Yes.”
“Bianca asked to replace me?”
“She asked how.”
Elena raised an eyebrow.
“You didn't tell me.”
“I didn't know.”
“Useful phrase lately.”
Dominic looked at her.
She softened.
“Sorry.”
“No.”
He deserved some of it.
They reviewed Luca’s estate provisions.
No family spouse automatically acquired trust control.
No caregiver could be dismissed from professional documentation solely by a non-parent family member.
Conti smiled.
“You know this doesn’t control normal employment law.”
“I know.”
“You're creating governance, not a constitution.”
“I know.”
Martin said:
“You really hate being told what you already know.”
Dominic looked at him.
Martin almost regretted it.
Then Dominic smiled faintly.
“Continue.”
Another cultural shift.
Across Chicago, Bianca spent the rehearsal evening alone with her sister, Alessandra.
No society photographers.
No public statement.
She finally told someone the complete truth.
“I lied first.”
Alessandra stared.
“About Talia?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought Dominic would believe me.”
“Did he?”
“At first.”
Alessandra closed her eyes.
“Bianca.”
“I know.”
“No. I don't think you do.”
Bianca became defensive.
“You were never in that house.”
“What does that matter?”
“I was always second.”
“To a nanny?”
“To everyone.”
Alessandra stared.
“Then you needed therapy, not a campaign.”
The sentence landed brutally.
Bianca laughed, then cried.
“I wanted to belong.”
“You tried to earn belonging by removing people.”
“Yes.”
“Do you hear how insane that sounds?”
“Yes.”
For months, Bianca had explained herself to people invested in protecting her.
Lawyers.
Friends.
Her mother.
Alessandra was the first person who loved her enough not to soften it.
“What happens now?” Bianca asked.
“You live.”
“That’s it?”
“You apologize where appropriate. You pay whatever civil consequences come. You stop asking Dominic to save you from what you did.”
Bianca cried.
“And Luca?”
“You leave him alone unless Dominic decides contact is appropriate.”
That hurt most.
Bianca had wanted to become Luca’s mother.
Now she had no place in his life.
Not because Talia took it.
Because Bianca tried to force it.
At the estate, Dominic’s phone buzzed.
A message from Talia.
Serena says the new agreement is ready.
He replied:
It is.
She wrote:
I’ll review.
Not yes.
Not no.
Dominic put the phone down.
Elena asked:
“Is she coming back?”
“I don't know.”
“You want her to?”
“Yes.”
“Then don’t ruin it by making wanting sound like an order.”
Dominic looked at his sister.
“Everyone is suddenly a philosopher.”
“No.”
Elena smiled.
“You were suddenly forced to listen.”
Fair.
Outside, the mansion was quiet.
The rehearsal dinner that never happened became something better.
Not celebration.
Correction.
Less glamorous.
May you like
More useful.
---
