Chapter 4 - The Color of Ice
Vanessa’s lower lip began to quiver.
The flush of anger that had painted her chest red moments ago vanished, leaving her skin a pale, waxy yellow.
Her mouth opened slightly, but no sound escaped her throat.
She took one step backward, her heel catching on the delicate lace hem of her veil.
The fine netting snapped away from her hair, dropping onto the floor like a discarded bandage.
Julian stared at the tiny screen.
The low-angle light from the display cast long, sharp shadows upward across his jawline.
The veins in his temple began to pulse rhythmically beneath his tan skin.
His knuckles turned stark white as his grip tightened around the edges of the phone.
The glass cracked a fraction further under his palm with a faint crunch.
The audio recording played on.
"He thinks the offshore accounts are still in his daughter’s name... he has no idea I signed the transfer papers before the rehearsal dinner."
A collective gasp rippled through the rows of seated guests.
A woman in a silver sequin dress covered her mouth with both hands, her pearls clicking together.
Julian didn't look at the crowd.
He didn't look at his father sitting rigidly in the front row with a folded handkerchief.
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He slowly stood up from the floor.
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