testify

Chapter 3 - THE FOLDED PAPER AND THE MORNING LIGHT

I stared at the document trembling in my daughter’s hands.

Transfer of Beneficiary – DeLuca Family Trust.

The trust Anthony had set up the day Emily was born. The one that held the deeds to the legitimate businesses, the properties, the safety net he promised would always protect her.

“Emily,” I whispered, “where did you find this?”

A tear slipped down her cheek. “In Dad’s study. I… I left the dinner tonight because I wanted to come back and talk to you. I wanted to beg you to stay for the wedding. But when I got here, I heard Dad and Brianna talking in the living room.”

“You heard them?”

She nodded, wiping her eyes. “I slipped into his study to hide. He had left his briefcase open. Mom… why is Brianna’s name on my trust fund?”

I gently took the paper from her. My eyes scanned the legal jargon. It wasn't a complete transfer. It was an amendment. Anthony had quietly named Brianna as a co-beneficiary, giving her a 50% stake in Emily’s inheritance, effective upon his death or incapacitation.

But there was a stipulation at the bottom.

Effective upon the marriage of Emily Rose DeLuca.

My breath hitched. Tomorrow.

If Emily got married tomorrow, the amendment locked in. Brianna would legally own half of our daughter's future.

“He told me you hated me,” Emily sobbed softly, clutching the empty platinum chain. “He said you were so disgusted that I let Brianna come to the dress fitting last month that you took the sapphire back. Did you, Mom? Did you take it?”

I grabbed her shoulders, making her look at me. “Emily, listen to me. I didn't know Brianna was at your dress fitting. I didn't give your father this box. And I would never take away your grandmother’s sapphire.”

Emily stared at me, the betrayal fracturing her expression. “But… Dad said you yelled at him. He said you told him you wanted nothing to do with the wedding.”

“I told him I wanted nothing to do with his mistress,” I said firmly. “I am your mother. I am going to watch you walk down that aisle, and I am going to sit in the front row.”

Relief washed over her face, followed instantly by a terrifying realization. “If Dad lied about the necklace… and he lied about you…” She looked at the paper in my hand. “Then he’s giving her my trust fund.”

“He’s trying to,” I corrected.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed on the hardwood stairs. Heavy, familiar steps.

Anthony.

“Put it away,” I hissed, shoving the document back into her pocket. “Wipe your eyes.”

The bedroom door swung open. Anthony froze, taking in the sight of the two of us sitting on the floor by the open safe.

His eyes darted from my face to Emily's, then to the blue velvet box in her lap.

“Emily,” he said, his voice instantly softening into the protective father. “Sweetheart, what are you doing here? Michael called me, he said you left the restaurant.”

Emily stood up, clutching the empty box. She was twenty-five, but in that moment, she looked like the five-year-old girl missing two front teeth.

“I came to get the sapphire, Dad,” she said, her voice remarkably steady.

Anthony glanced at me, a flash of panic in his dark eyes. “I told you, Em. Your mother—”

“My mother is standing right here,” Emily interrupted.

The silence in the room was deafening.

Anthony’s jaw tightened. He realized the lie had collapsed. But Anthony DeLuca never apologized; he pivoted.

“Marianne,” he said coldly. “I see you decided to upset her the night before her wedding.”

I stood up, brushing off my knees. “I didn't have to. You did that at lunch.”

“Dad,” Emily said, stepping forward. “Where is the sapphire?”

Anthony sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. “It’s complicated, Emily. The jeweler needed to clean the setting. I’ll give it to you tomorrow.”

Another lie.

I knew my husband. I knew his tells. The slight twitch near his left eye. He had given the sapphire to someone else.

And I knew exactly who was wearing a red dress downstairs, demanding to be seen.

“I’m sleeping at Michael’s parents' house tonight,” Emily said abruptly. She walked past him toward the door.

“Emily, wait,” Anthony reached for her. “Tomorrow is a big day. Don’t do this.”

She paused in the doorway and looked back at the man she had idolized her entire life.

“You’re right, Dad. It is a big day. I’ll see you at the church.”

She left, her footsteps fading down the hall.

Anthony closed the door and turned to me, the mask dropping completely.

“What did you tell her?” he demanded.

“The truth.”

“You’re trying to turn my daughter against me.”

“I don’t have to,” I said quietly. “You’re doing a fine job of that yourself.”

I walked toward the door, but he grabbed my arm. His grip was tight, a warning.

“If you try to sit in the front row tomorrow, Marianne, I will have my men escort you out. I am not playing games. Brianna is my future.”

I looked down at his hand on my arm, then up into his eyes.

“Do you know what my grandmother told me when she gave me that sapphire, Anthony?”

He didn't answer.

“She said, ‘A DeLuca man respects only what he fears losing.’” I pulled my arm free. “You thought I’d quietly disappear to save Emily the embarrassment. But you forgot one thing.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What’s that?”

“I’m the one who packed your bags when the feds raided our house in ’98. I’m the one who knows where you hid the offshore accounts. You aren’t the only one in this marriage who knows how to destroy someone.”

I left him standing in the bedroom and walked downstairs.

As I passed the living room, Brianna was pouring herself a glass of my expensive wine.

She smiled smugly. “Leaving so soon, Marianne?”

I stopped and looked at her neck.

There, resting against her collarbone, catching the dim light of the chandelier, was my grandmother’s blue sapphire.

I didn't scream. I didn't cry.

I just smiled.

“Enjoy the necklace, Brianna,” I said. “Because by tomorrow night, it will be the only thing you have left.”

I walked out the front door, leaving her staring after me.

But as I got into my car, I noticed an unmarked black sedan parked across the street. The driver rolled down the window just enough for me to see his face.

May you like

It was Father Thomas, the priest who was supposed to marry Emily tomorrow.

And he was holding a gun.

Related Stories

Other posts