“Charles, can I freeze the accounts connected to me?”

“The ones you control, yes. Lydia’s personal account is different.”

“Do it.”

“Eleanor—”

“Anything Marcus can access through me. Freeze it.”

He was silent for half a second.

Then his voice changed.

Businesslike.

“I’ll make the calls.”

I picked up the report again.

“What about the transfers Lydia already made?”

“Those need to be investigated.”

“She authorized them?”

“It appears so.”

I closed my eyes.

Not because I was surprised Marcus had lied.

Because Lydia had moved nearly two million dollars without once asking where it was going.

“What do I do now?”

Charles answered carefully.

“Do not sign anything.”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“And Eleanor?”

“Yes?”

“Call the police.”

I Made Two Calls Before Walking Her Down the Aisle

I did.

I gave the dispatcher Marcus’s legal name, explained that he was currently on my property, and said my attorney had documents connecting him to suspected financial fraud.

They asked me not to confront him.

I looked out at the ceremony.

That part was going to be difficult.

My second call was to the head of security.

“Nobody leaves through the service gate without checking with me.”

He hesitated.

“Including guests?”

“Including the groom.”

I ended the call.

Then I opened my banking app.

Several accounts had already changed status.

Restricted.

Charles worked quickly.

For years, I had used money to make Lydia’s problems disappear.

That afternoon, I used it differently.

I made sure mine could not disappear with her.

Someone knocked.

“Mom?”

Lydia.

I unlocked the door.

She stood there holding her bouquet.

White roses.

The same flowers Richard had given me on our wedding day.

For one second, she looked eleven again.

Then she saw the report on my desk.

“What’s that?”

I turned it facedown.

“Business.”

Her shoulders relaxed.

“Did you sign?”

I picked up my handbag.

“We should go. Everyone’s waiting.”

She searched my face.

“Mom.”

“Your wedding is starting.”

A small smile appeared.

She thought she had won.

Outside, the coordinator waved us forward.

The guests stood as the music changed.

Lydia slipped her arm through mine.

“I knew you’d understand.”

I said nothing.

We started down the aisle.

Marcus waited near the ocean, smiling at us.

Halfway there, I saw two dark vehicles stop beyond the hedges near the service entrance.

Nobody else seemed to notice.

Lydia squeezed my arm.

“After the ceremony, we’ll sign everything properly.”

I looked at her.

Then at Marcus.

Then at the microphone beside the officiant.

“No,” I said.

Lydia’s smile faltered.

We reached the front row.

Instead of placing her hand in Marcus’s, I released my daughter’s arm.

Then I stepped toward the microphone.

Behind the guests, two police officers had just walked onto my lawn.

I Told the Wedding Guests What My Daughter Had Asked Me to Buy

The officiant looked surprised when I reached for the microphone.

Behind me, the string quartet stopped.

Two hundred guests stood facing the ocean.

Marcus was still smiling.

Lydia wasn’t.

“Mom, what are you doing?”

I looked at my daughter.

Her bouquet had lowered to her waist. Several white rose petals had fallen onto the wooden aisle.

“There’s something everyone should know before this ceremony continues.”

Marcus stepped forward.

“Eleanor, this is private.”

“You made it my problem twenty minutes ago.”

I turned toward the guests.

“My daughter and the man standing beside her asked me to transfer fifty million dollars into a fund they would control.”

The lawn went quiet.

“They also asked me to transfer ownership of this property.”

Lydia moved toward me.

“Mom, stop.”

I looked at her.

“Did you ask me for fifty million dollars?”

Her face reddened.

“This is humiliating.”

Marcus reached for her arm.

“Don’t answer.”

That was when several guests began whispering.

I took Charles’s report from my handbag.

Marcus saw it.

His expression changed immediately.

Marcus Thorne Wasn’t His Name

“This man introduced himself to us as Marcus Thorne.”

I opened the first page.

“According to the background report my attorney sent me yesterday, his legal name is Marcus Evans.”

Lydia turned toward him.

“What?”

Marcus shook his head.

“That’s old information.”

“Your name is old information?” Lydia asked.

He ignored her.

I continued.

“Marcus Evans has been connected to failed investment ventures, civil financial disputes, and a previous engagement involving another wealthy family.”

Marcus stepped closer.

“Put the microphone down.”

I didn’t.

“Almost two million dollars has also been transferred from an account belonging to Lydia into businesses connected to him.”

Lydia stared at me.

Then Marcus.

“What does she mean?”

His voice became quieter.

“Your mother is trying to control you again.”

“Is your name Marcus Evans?”

He hesitated.

That hesitation answered the question.

Behind the guests, two police officers were approaching with my security director.

Marcus noticed them.

He looked toward the beach.

Then toward the service gate.

One officer walked closer.

“Marcus Evans?”

Marcus lifted both hands slightly.

“Am I being arrested?”

“We need to speak with you regarding a financial investigation.”

Lydia grabbed his sleeve.

“Tell me what’s happening.”

He pulled away.

“Ask your mother.”

Then, before the officers even touched him, Marcus pointed at Lydia.

“She authorized the transfers.”

Lydia froze.

“What?”

“Every one of them.”

He looked at the officer.

“She signed everything. I didn’t take money from her account.”

“You told me they were investments.”

“And you agreed.”

Her face had gone pale.

“You said we were building a company together.”

Marcus laughed once.

“Lydia, you believed what you wanted to believe.”

I watched my daughter’s fingers tighten around the bouquet.

Then Marcus looked at me.

“She was the easiest way into the family.”

Lydia stared at him.

“What did you just say?”

He nodded toward the house.

“That was the opportunity.”

The officers stepped between them.

Marcus was escorted across the lawn.

Guests moved aside silently.

Less than five minutes earlier, he had been standing beneath a white flower arch waiting to marry my daughter.

Now he was being led toward a police car.

Lydia watched until he disappeared behind the hedges.

Then she turned toward me.

“Mom, fix this.”

I Had Spent Thirty Years Fixing Everything

I handed the microphone back to the officiant.