Chapter 2 - THE SIX MINUTES THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
“Someone has been watching my daughter sleep?”
Vincent Donovan's voice was dangerously quiet.
Across his private office, Daniel Price, the family's security director, stood with a tablet in his hands.
“Since the second week Miss Warren moved into the estate, sir.”
Grace stood beside me, clutching the sleeve of my cardigan.
I could feel her trembling.
“Daddy,” she whispered, “did they see everything?”
Vincent crossed the room immediately.
He knelt in front of his fourteen-year-old daughter and took both her hands.
“Listen to me, sweetheart. You haven't done anything wrong. Not one thing.”
“But my friends already saw that video.”
His expression changed.
“Who sent it?”
Grace lowered her eyes.
“Celeste. She told them it was a preview of my big surprise.”
I watched Vincent struggle to keep his anger from showing.
He wasn't simply furious.
He was realizing that the woman he intended to marry had used his daughter's most private moments to entertain strangers.
“Daniel,” he said, “how much time?”
“Four minutes until the promotional release.”
“Get the website taken down.”
“We've contacted the hosting company. Their safety department is reviewing the emergency request.”
“Then get their director on the phone.”
Daniel nodded and left.
I guided Grace toward the sofa.
“Would you like some water?”
She shook her head.
“Can you stay?”
“Of course.”
She sat beside me.
Then she asked something that made my chest tighten.
“Ms. Mitchell, is having a brace really that embarrassing?”
I looked at her.
“My son Eli wore a hearing aid for almost two years when he was younger. He hated it at first because he thought people would stare.”
“What happened?”
“He discovered that being able to hear his teacher mattered more than what other people thought.”
Grace touched the edge of her brace through her dress.
“But Celeste says beautiful girls shouldn't need things like this.”
“Celeste is wrong.”
Grace studied my face.
“You really think so?”
“I wouldn't tell you otherwise.”
Across the room, Vincent turned away.
He was wiping his eyes.
At that moment, Daniel returned.
“The promotional website is suspended. The release has been blocked.”
Vincent exhaled.
But Daniel wasn't finished.
“We have a problem. The original footage was transferred to a separate production archive three hours ago. We haven't established who can access those copies.”
Vincent's relief disappeared.
“Find out.”
Daniel placed the tablet on his desk.
“The bedroom camera was registered under your personal household account.”
“That's impossible.”
“The authorization contains your electronic credentials.”
Vincent stared at him.
“I never authorized a camera inside Grace's bedroom.”
“Someone used your account, sir.”
I noticed Grace suddenly straighten.
“What is it, sweetheart?” Vincent asked.
She hesitated.
“The camera. Was it near my bookshelf?”
Daniel looked surprised.
“Yes.”
Grace swallowed.
“Uncle Peter moved my bookshelf in September.”
Vincent went completely still.
Peter Bell.
I knew the name.
He was the younger brother of Vincent's late wife, Anna Donovan.
He also managed the Anna Donovan Foundation, a charitable organization that helped children with complicated medical conditions.
Vincent trusted him with millions of dollars.
More importantly, Grace trusted him.
“Peter said the bookshelf was blocking an air vent,” Grace continued. “He brought someone to fix it.”
Vincent looked at Daniel.
“Was Peter at the house the day the camera was installed?”
Daniel opened the household access records.
His expression tightened.
“Yes, sir.”
Before Vincent could respond, Celeste appeared in the doorway.
Her elegant white gown shimmered beneath the office lights.
“Vincent, darling, the guests are asking where you are.”
Nobody answered.
She noticed Grace sitting beside me.
“Oh, sweetheart. Are we still upset about the dress?”
Vincent approached her.
“Did you know someone installed a camera in Grace's bedroom?”
Celeste stopped smiling.
“What?”
“Answer me.”
“Of course not!”
“Then explain the video you sent to her friends.”
Celeste looked toward Grace.
“That was promotional material. It was supposed to help people understand her journey.”
“She didn't agree to it.”
“I was trying to make her feel confident!”
“By humiliating her?”
Celeste's cheeks reddened.
“You're twisting everything.”
Vincent held up the production contract.
“Did you authorize this?”
Her eyes moved toward the signature.
“I signed the production agreement. Peter handled the family permissions.”
Vincent stared at her.
“Peter?”
“He told me you approved the documentary.”
Grace rose from the sofa.
“You said Daddy wanted everyone to see me without my brace.”
Celeste looked away.
That silence said more than an apology ever could.
Vincent opened the office door.
“Leave, Celeste.”
“Vincent—”
“Now.”
She walked out.
A moment later, Daniel received another message from his technical investigator.
He read it twice.
Then he turned toward me.
“Miss Mitchell, what's your son's name?”
My stomach tightened.
“Eli. Why?”
Daniel rotated the tablet.
A photograph showed my eight-year-old son standing outside his Manhattan school that afternoon.
Someone had circled him in red.
Beneath the picture was a message from an account associated with the documentary production team.
THE DRESSMAKER HAS A CHILD, TOO.
May you like
And underneath those words:
MAKE SURE SHE UNDERSTANDS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN PEOPLE REFUSE TO COOPERATE.
