The morning sun flooded the bridal suite of the Plaza, but Sophie Laurent felt only the chill of the secrets she carried. She sat at the vanity, the “Compromised Bride” staring at her own reflection.
There was a soft knock, and William entered. He wasn’t the frantic, manic planner he had been for months. He looked calm, steady–the “White Knight” she had fallen in love with.
“I know it’s bad luck to see you,” William said softly, “but I couldn’t wait.”
He placed a small velvet box on the table. Sophie opened it to find a vintage platinum locket. Inside wasn’t a diamond, but a tiny, hand-painted portrait of the three of them: William, Leo, and Sophie.
“I had the artist paint over the empty space in the family portrait,” William said, his eyes thick with emotion. “You aren’t just my wife, Sophie. You are the mother who brought the light back to this family. You cured us.”
Sophie felt the guilt slice through her like a knife. He believed she was his salvation, while she knew she was hiding the blackmail that could destroy him. She clutched the locket, blinking back tears. “I love you, William,” she whispered, terrified it would be the last time she could say it without the weight of the past crushing them.