Chapter 8 - THE WEDDING THAT NEVER HAPPENED
“Four months?”
Dominic stared at the date.
“Victoria started planning this four months ago?”
Michael didn't answer immediately.
“The file shows when this version was prepared. We still need to establish who created it and whether it was submitted anywhere before this week.”
Dominic turned toward me.
“Anna, when did Victoria first begin changing the rules for Ethan?”
I thought carefully.
“She started asking him not to mention Caroline around the time she became engaged to you.”
“Before she moved in?”
“Yes.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
The timeline was beginning to make sense.
Victoria had not simply lost patience with Ethan after moving into the mansion.
She'd begun reshaping his life earlier.
The photograph removal.
The restrictions on Buddy.
The private conversations about independence.
The pressure to stop talking about Caroline.
Each action had seemed small enough to explain away.
Together, they told a different story.
But there was still something we didn't understand.
Why would Victoria file a complaint against Dominic if she intended to marry him?
Michael answered that question when he examined another attachment.
“She may have intended to use the threat of an investigation as leverage.”
Dominic stared.
“To make me sign the lake agreement?”
“Possibly. A complaint could become a bargaining tool. She might promise to correct her statements if you cooperated.”
I thought about Victoria's words.
People sometimes do complicated things for good reasons.
She'd said them while trying to convince me that paying my father's bills was an act of kindness.
Now I understood how she justified things to herself.
If she decided the outcome was good enough, she could excuse almost anything done to achieve it.
Dominic sat down.
Then he said something I hadn't expected.
“This is partly my fault.”
Michael looked up.
“Dominic.”
“I don't mean what Victoria did. She made those choices.”
He looked at Ethan's photograph.
“But I gave her responsibilities I should have handled myself. I signed papers I didn't read. I let her become the person my son had to ask for permission.”
His voice cracked.
“And I didn't notice he was afraid in his own home.”
Nobody interrupted.
After a moment, Dominic looked toward me.
“Anna, what would you have done differently?”
The question surprised me.
“Sir?”
“If you were Ethan's parent. What would you have done?”
I thought about my father.
About how helpless I'd felt after his stroke.
About how dignity sometimes came from being allowed to make small decisions for yourself.
“I'd have asked Ethan what he needed,” I answered.
Dominic nodded slowly.
“He's only ten.”
“Yes. But that doesn't mean he has nothing to say.”
Those words stayed with him.
That afternoon, Dominic sat beside Ethan in the sitting room.
Buddy lay between them.
“I want to ask you something,” Dominic said.
Ethan looked up.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
“Do you want to live somewhere else?”
Ethan shook his head.
“No.”
“Do you want to go to boarding school?”
“No.”
“What about the lake house?”
The boy sat straighter.
“Can we go there?”
Dominic smiled sadly.
“Would you like that?”
Ethan nodded.
“With Buddy?”
“When his leg is better.”
“And you?”
Dominic's expression softened.
“Especially me.”
Ethan thought for a moment.
“Can Miss Anna come?”
I looked up from the doorway.
Dominic glanced toward me.
“If she'd like to.”
The boy smiled.
Then he became serious.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Did Mommy leave because she was tired of me?”
Dominic's face changed.
“No, son.”
“Victoria said you have to stop being sad when people leave.”
Dominic pulled him close.
“Your mother didn't choose to leave us.”
Ethan looked at him.
“She loved us?”
“More than anything.”
“Do you still love her?”
Dominic hesitated.
Then answered honestly.
“Yes.”
Ethan nodded.
“Can you love someone who died and someone who's alive?”
Dominic looked toward me briefly.
Then back at his son.
“Of course.”
The boy seemed to consider that.
“Then why couldn't Victoria?”
Dominic closed his eyes.
“I wish I knew.”
Across the house, the canceled wedding arrangements were being dismantled.
Florists removed white arrangements from the entry hall.
The caterers packed unused decorations.
Mrs. Alvarez supervised the returns.
Dominic had personally contacted the guests, telling them the wedding would not take place.
He didn't blame Ethan.
He didn't invent an excuse.
He simply said the marriage could not proceed.
Meanwhile, Michael sent evidence to the proper authorities.
The suspicious property agreement was formally challenged.
The lender was informed that the trust disputed the signatures and authorization.
The original school application, payment records, and transportation instructions were preserved.
And the false complaint was answered with documented evidence.
My father's rehabilitation center confirmed I had been there on the date of the alleged conversation.
The therapist provided an attendance record.
The photograph showed my father standing beside me, proudly holding onto a walking rail.
It wasn't glamorous evidence.
But it was true.
And truth finally mattered more than Victoria's carefully prepared story.
That evening, Victoria asked to speak with Dominic.
He agreed only with Michael present.
They met in the study.
I was asked to bring coffee, and Dominic told me I could remain because the accusations involved me.
Victoria looked around the room.
The engagement ring was gone from her hand.
She appeared smaller without the certainty she'd carried throughout the previous weeks.
“Dominic,” she began, “I know you hate me.”
“I don't hate you.”
She looked surprised.
“But I cannot trust you.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I thought Andrew would lose everything.”
“Then Andrew needed to face that honestly.”
“He was desperate.”
“So you frightened Ethan?”
Victoria looked down.
“I thought if Ethan spent a year somewhere structured, you and I could settle into our marriage. Andrew would have time to recover. Everyone would eventually adjust.”
Dominic stared.
“Except my son.”
She didn't answer.
Michael leaned forward.
“Victoria, we need to know who prepared the school statements and the complaint.”
Her hands began trembling.
“I made changes to some information.”
“Who authorized you?”
She looked at Dominic.
“I thought I was acting for the family.”
Dominic shook his head.
“You were acting against it.”
Victoria began crying.
Then she said, “There's something you don't understand about Andrew.”
Michael waited.
“He didn't just need the road. His lender had threatened to call in the personal guarantees.”
Dominic frowned.
“What guarantees?”
Victoria looked toward the desk.
“The money you loaned him wasn't enough. He needed proof that the lake-access agreement was going through.”
Michael studied her.
“Did Andrew know Caroline had withdrawn her approval?”
Victoria nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
Dominic's face hardened.
“Then he knew he was using a rejected agreement.”
She swallowed.
“He said the signatures could be corrected after the wedding.”
Michael made a note.
Victoria looked toward the door.
“I kept telling myself nobody would actually lose anything.”
Dominic answered quietly.
“My son almost lost his home.”
She covered her face.
Then he asked the question everyone had been avoiding.
“Victoria, who first suggested using Ethan's placement to pressure me?”
She didn't answer.
“Was it Andrew?”
Silence.
“Or was it you?”
Victoria slowly lifted her head.
Before she could speak, Michael placed another document on the desk.
It was a copy of an email attachment obtained from Andrew's financial records.
The attachment was titled FAMILY TRANSITION PLAN.
It contained schedules, payment instructions, and proposed language for Ethan's wedding speech.
Dominic opened the final page.
The plan included three numbered goals.
Remove Buddy.
Arrange Ethan's residential placement.
Secure the lake-access agreement.
Then Dominic saw a sentence written beneath the goals.
His expression went pale.
He turned the paper toward Victoria.
“Explain this.”
She stared at it.
And began shaking.
Because the sentence did not describe Andrew's finances.
May you like
It described something far more personal.
“ONCE THE BOY AND THE DOG ARE GONE, CAROLINE WILL FINALLY BE GONE TOO.”
