Chapter 2 - THE BRIDE WITH HER HANDS TIED
“IF YOU LOVE YOUR SISTER, DANTE, YOU WILL LET THIS WEDDING HAPPEN.”
Those were the first words Gabriel Rourke spoke when Dante Marchetti stepped into the ballroom.
One hundred ten wealthy guests turned toward the entrance.
The orchestra stopped.
And standing beneath the enormous golden chandelier was Nina Marchetti, wearing a white wedding gown she had never chosen.
Her face was pale.
Her bouquet trembled.
Beside her stood a silver-haired man in an expensive gray suit.
Gabriel Rourke.
I recognized his name immediately.
He owned several shipping and development companies along the East Coast. Six months earlier, Dante had rejected his offer to purchase part of the Marchetti family's waterfront property.
Now Rourke stood beside Dante's terrified sister.
And Sabrina Vale was smiling.
“Darling,” she said, approaching Dante, “before you get upset, there's something wonderful we need to explain.”
Dante walked past her.
“Nina.”
His sister lifted her eyes.
“I'm sorry.”
He stopped directly in front of her.
“For what?”
She couldn't answer.
Dante gently removed the bouquet from her hands.
A thin white ribbon had been wrapped around her wrists.
Beneath it were two plastic restraints.
Someone near the front table gasped.
Dante stared at the restraints for several seconds.
Then he took a small folding knife from his security chief, Frank Russo.
He cut them carefully.
Nina's hands fell apart.
Red marks circled both wrists.
“Who did this?” Dante asked.
Nobody answered.
Sabrina stepped forward.
“Dante, you're misunderstanding. Nina became emotional, and Aaron was only trying to—”
“Stop talking.”
The softness of Dante's voice frightened me more than shouting would have.
He turned toward Rourke.
“Explain why my sister was restrained.”
Rourke adjusted his cuffs.
“Your sister agreed to marry me because our families need to resolve a financial misunderstanding.”
“She's twenty-four.”
“And old enough to understand consequences.”
Dante took one step closer.
“Be very careful with your next sentence.”
Rourke remained surprisingly calm.
He reached inside his jacket and removed a folded financial statement.
“Six million four hundred thousand dollars disappeared from the Marchetti Harbor Trust over the last eighteen months.”
Evelyn, standing beside me near the ballroom entrance, made a small sound.
Rourke continued.
“Your mother authorized those transfers. Your sister discovered them. Unfortunately, the money was directed into accounts connected to my financing company.”
“That doesn't explain the wedding,” Dante said.
“It would settle the disagreement privately. Nina would sign a consent agreement, I would restructure the debt, and your mother would avoid a very unpleasant investigation.”
Nina lowered her head.
Dante looked at her.
“Is that why you agreed?”
Her voice barely carried.
“They said Mom would go to prison.”
Evelyn gripped my arm.
“I never stole anything.”
Rourke glanced toward her.
“Then I'm sure you'll welcome an investigation.”
Sabrina intervened.
“Please. Everyone is watching.”
Dante looked around the ballroom.
The guests were silent.
A few had already taken out their phones.
“Frank,” he said, “make sure nobody approaches my sister.”
Then he turned to the guests.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the wedding announcement was unauthorized. My sister is safe. Dinner will continue while we resolve a private family matter.”
His voice left little room for argument.
Rourke smiled faintly.
“You cannot dismiss a financial obligation with a speech.”
Dante ignored him.
He placed his jacket around Nina's shoulders.
But as we started toward the study, Rourke spoke again.
“One more thing, Marchetti.”
He unfolded the statement.
“At nine tomorrow morning, the lender will begin enforcement against the waterfront properties pledged as collateral.”
Dante stopped.
“What collateral?”
“Pier Nine. The adjoining residential property. And several buildings owned through your family trust.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“That includes St. Agnes House.”
I knew that place.
Forty-two elderly residents lived there, most of them retired dockworkers or their widows.
Dante's father had helped establish it.
Rourke continued.
“Your mother signed the approvals. And you personally guaranteed the financing.”
Dante turned.
“I guaranteed nothing of the kind.”
Rourke handed him the document.
I watched Dante study the bottom of the page.
His jaw tightened.
His expression changed from anger to disbelief.
Because beneath the financial terms, written in unmistakable black ink, was his own signature.
DANTE V. MARCHETTI.
And beside it was a date from six months earlier.
Dante stared at the paper.
May you like
Then he said something that made even Rourke's smile disappear.
“I remember signing this.”
