Chapter 3 - THE MAID WHO KNEW WHERE TO PRESS
The first shot shattered the morning open.
Marin dropped instinctively behind the heavy wooden desk as men surged toward the door. Vivienne did not scream. That frightened Marin more than if she had. The bride simply stepped backward, gathering her silk skirt in one hand, as if violence were an inconvenience she had already scheduled into the day.
Cash grabbed Marin by the arm and pulled her behind the wall near the dressing screen.
“Stay down,” he said.
His voice left no room for argument.
Teddy shouted orders, but half the room no longer seemed to know whether they were supposed to obey him. That was the problem with betrayal. Once exposed, it did not merely damage loyalty. It made every command sound contaminated.
Another shot cracked downstairs.
Then another.
Men yelled in the foyer.
The mansion, which had felt moments earlier like a fortress, suddenly became a box full of exits nobody trusted.
Cash pressed one hand against his side.
Marin saw the small dark stain forming again.
Her stitches had held, but stress was pulling at the wound.
“You’re bleeding,” she said.
“Not now.”
“Yes, now.” She grabbed a folded towel from the table and shoved it against his ribs. “Press here. Hard.”
He stared at her.
She stared back.
“For a man everyone fears,” she said, “you’re very bad at following medical instructions.”
Cash gave a breath that might have been a laugh in another life.
Then the door burst open.
One of Cash’s men stumbled inside, face pale. “Cross men breached the service hall. They knew the guard rotation.”
Cash’s eyes went to Teddy.
Teddy looked wounded by the accusation. “I didn’t give them that.”
Vivienne, still near the doorway, smiled. “No. I did.”
Everyone turned.
She reached up and removed one diamond earring. Beneath it, hidden against the curve of her ear, was a tiny communication device.
Teddy cursed.
Vivienne dropped the earring into a champagne glass on the side table. “You Mercer men always think betrayal has to come through paperwork, money, or muscle. Sometimes all it takes is letting a bride choose the flowers, the seating chart, and the staff entrances.”
Marin’s stomach tightened.
The staff entrances.
She had come in that way.
Had she been chosen at random?
Or placed?
Cash seemed to read the question on her face.
“Who hired you?” he asked.
Marin swallowed. “A woman called me. Blocked number. Said the house needed emergency cleaning.”
Vivienne’s smile returned.
Cash’s expression hardened.
Marin looked between them. “You brought me here?”
Vivienne shrugged delicately. “I needed someone invisible enough to be disposable.”
The words landed harder than any slap.
Disposable.
That was how they all saw people like her. Poor women. Service women. Women with bills and sick sisters and no powerful last name attached to them.
Marin stood a little taller.
Cash noticed.
The gunfire moved closer.
Teddy looked at Cash. “We need the tunnel.”
Vivienne’s eyes flicked toward him.
Too fast.
Marin saw it.
Teddy did not.
Cash did.
“There is no tunnel,” Cash said quietly.
Vivienne’s face remained smooth, but her fingers tightened around her bouquet.
Cash stepped closer. “You found the old blueprints.”
She said nothing.
“You thought the wine cellar passage still connected to the harbor.”
Teddy stared. “It doesn’t?”
Cash’s eyes never left Vivienne. “I sealed it two years ago.”
For the first time since she entered, Vivienne looked uncertain.
A crash sounded below.
The mansion shook with shouting.
Cash turned to his men. “East stairs. Two at the rear hall. No one fires toward the staff wing.”
Marin’s eyes sharpened. “Staff wing?”
Cash glanced at her.
“The people working downstairs,” she said. “Caterers, florists, drivers. They’ll be trapped if Cross men came through the service hall.”
“This is not your concern,” Teddy snapped.
Marin spun on him. “I was one of them ten minutes ago.”
Cash looked at Teddy. “She’s right.”
Teddy’s jaw flexed.
Vivienne watched the exchange with cold calculation. “How touching. The king of Baltimore suddenly cares about dishwashers.”
Cash looked at her. “I care about anyone you planned to use as cover.”
Another guard appeared at the door. “Mr. Mercer, cathedral guests are calling. The Cross family is asking why you haven’t arrived.”
Vivienne lifted her chin. “Because he is a coward.”
Cash smiled then.
A real smile.
Small. Dangerous.
“No,” he said. “Because I’m about to make sure every guest hears exactly why.”
He walked to the mirror, took his black jacket from the chair, and put it on despite the blood beneath his shirt. Marin moved before thinking, adjusting the fabric so it would not pull against the wound.
His eyes dropped to her hands.
Neither of them spoke.
Then Cash looked at the guard. “Open a live feed to the cathedral.”
Teddy stepped forward. “Cash, think.”
“I am.”
“This will humiliate both families.”
Cash’s voice went cold. “Only one family tried to murder a groom before the vows.”
Vivienne’s face darkened. “You expose me publicly, and my father burns your harbor to the ground.”
Cash turned to her. “Your father sent you into my house dressed in white to make death look like marriage. Let him explain that to Baltimore.”
The guard held up a tablet. On the screen, the cathedral appeared in full splendor. Hundreds of guests sat beneath vaulted ceilings. Flowers lined the aisle. Musicians waited near the altar. The Cross family occupied the front pew, proud and polished.
Cash stepped into frame.
A murmur passed through the cathedral feed.
Marin stood behind him, half-hidden, still holding a blood-stained towel.
Cash looked into the camera.
“There will be no wedding today,” he said.
In the cathedral, people gasped.
Cash continued. “Vivienne Cross entered my home this morning knowing I had been wounded. She knew because her family arranged it. She planned to marry me in front of witnesses, then make herself a widow before sunset.”
Vivienne lunged toward the tablet.
Marin stepped between them.
The bride stopped.
Slowly, Vivienne looked down at Marin as if seeing her clearly for the first time.
“You stupid little maid,” she whispered.
Marin’s voice was calm. “You already made that mistake once.”
Vivienne’s hand flashed.
Not toward Marin’s face.
Toward the scissors on the medical tray.
Marin saw the movement and grabbed her wrist.
The bouquet fell.
Diamonds scattered.
Cash turned.
And from the tablet speaker came an older man’s furious voice.
“Vivienne,” her father shouted from the cathedral, “what have you done?”
May you like
Vivienne froze.
For the first time all morning, she looked afraid.
