Chapter 6 - The Rehearsal
The evening before the wedding, the estate was filled with high society. Senators, federal judges, foreign diplomats, and high-ranking syndicate capos moved through the ballroom in tuxedos and evening gowns.
Celeste was the star of the night. Clad in a pearl-white cocktail dress, she glided through the room, holding court and accepting congratulations with effortless charm.
"Oh, poor dear Elena," Celeste said mournfully to a group of senator’s wives, her voice dripping with artificial sympathy. "Her health has declined so rapidly this week. I’ve been staying at her bedside night and day, making sure she takes her medicines."
Nora stood near the catering staff, carrying a tray of champagne flutes. She watched Celeste play the dutiful daughter-in-law with sickening perfection.
Suddenly, Marko—disguised as an extra security guard for the event—passed by Nora, dropping a small folded note onto her tray without making eye contact.
Nora slipped into the pantry to read it.
’Tomorrow at 11:00 AM, St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Bring my mother in her chair to the front row on the bride's side. Do not let Celeste’s guards separate you. The storm hits at the altar.’
Nora burned the note over a small candle and washed the ashes down the sink.
When she returned to the ballroom, Celeste was standing near the grand staircase, sipping champagne. As Nora passed, Celeste stuck out her heel, trying to trip her again.
Nora smoothly stepped over it without breaking stride.
May you like
Celeste sneered, leaning in close. "Enjoy your last night of breathing, servant. Tomorrow, I rule."
Nora offered a faint, polite smile. "Congratulations, Miss Beaumont. I’m sure tomorrow will be an unforgettable day."
