“Well,” he said while looking me up and down, “Ryan, your fiancée really does look like trash.”

Several guests chuckled.

My face burned. Ryan opened his mouth to speak, but Charles waved him silent.

Then the patio doors behind him slowly opened.

Every sound stopped when the elderly woman I had rescued stepped outside beside the house manager… and Charles Whitmore suddenly turned pale.

Part 2

The woman no longer looked confused or fragile. She stood tall, calm, and commanding, carrying the kind of presence that silenced an entire crowd without effort. Rain tapped softly against the patio umbrellas, but nobody moved.