Chapter 3 - The Bride Who Never Looked at His Wheelchair
Casius had survived a crash that should have killed him.
He had survived surgeries doctors refused to promise would work.
He had survived twenty months of waking each morning inside a body that no longer obeyed him the way it once had.
None of it prepared him to see his dead brother walking through the rain.
“Casius.”
Delphine whispered his name.
He could not answer.
Matteo entered the warehouse with Sterling and Anthony.
Gideon moved Casius and Delphine through the rear corridor before the men reached the office.
They escaped through a loading entrance.
Nobody spoke until the warehouse was several miles behind them.
Finally Gideon asked, “You saw him too?”
“Yes.”
Casius's voice sounded distant.
Delphine sat opposite him.
“Could it have been someone who looked like him?”
“No.”
“How certain?”
“He broke his left ankle when he was twelve. Never healed properly. His foot turns outward when he walks.”
The man at the warehouse had the same walk.
Matteo.
Alive.
Six years ago, Matteo's car had been found after plunging into the Gulf.
The body recovered days later had been badly damaged.
Identification had depended partly on dental records.
Casius had never questioned it.
Why would he?
Because grief made people accept explanations they would otherwise examine.
By dawn, Casius had ordered Matteo’s death records retrieved.
They were real.
Which meant somebody had worked very hard to create them.
Delphine remained in his study while Gideon made calls.
At four in the morning, Casius noticed she was shivering.
“You're cold.”
“I'm fine.”
“You're shaking.”
“I'm tired.”
He took a blanket from the sofa and held it toward her.
She hesitated.
“Take it.”
She did.
“Thank you.”
A silence followed.
Then Delphine asked, “Were you close?”
“With Matteo?”
“Yes.”
Casius looked toward the window.
“He taught me how to drive.”
A bitter smile appeared.
“He also taught me how to lie to our father.”
Delphine smiled faintly.
“Useful education.”
“He was supposed to lead the family.”
“Not you?”
“No.”
That surprised her.
“Matteo was older. Better with people. I was better with numbers.”
“What changed?”
“He died.”
Except he hadn't.
Casius stared at the rain.
If Matteo had staged his death, why?
And why had he returned now?
More importantly, why was he meeting the man whose company had been connected to Casius's crash?
At sunrise, Delphine stood.
“I should leave you alone.”
Casius looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because this is family.”
“So are you.”
The words came before he could stop them.
Delphine froze.
So did Casius.
They had been married thirteen days.
Neither knew what to do with the sentence.
Delphine eventually nodded.
“All right.”
She sat back down.
Something shifted between them.
Small.
But permanent.
Over the next week, Casius investigated Matteo.
Delphine helped.
They ate breakfast together.
Then dinner.
Sometimes they worked until midnight.
Casius discovered she had a dry sense of humor.
Delphine discovered he hated people pushing his wheelchair without permission.
One afternoon, she saw a new employee grab the handles behind him.
Casius had barely turned before Delphine said:
“Don't.”
The employee froze.
Delphine's voice remained polite.
“Ask him.”
The employee apologized.
Later, Casius found Delphine in the library.
“You didn't need to do that.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
“Because he shouldn't have done it.”
No pity.
No performance.
Just fact.
Casius realized why her behavior had affected him from the beginning.
Delphine understood something everyone else seemed incapable of understanding.
The wheelchair was part of his life.
It was not his life.
The same way her scar was part of her face.
Not her identity.
One evening he found her standing before a mirror.
Her hair had been pinned back.
The scar was completely visible.
When she noticed him, her hand immediately reached for her hair.
“Don't.”
She stopped.
Casius rolled closer.
“You don't have to hide it from me.”
“I'm not.”
“You are.”
Delphine looked at herself.
“My mother taught me how to arrange my hair after the fire.”
“Why?”
“She said people wouldn't know where to look.”
Casius felt something cold move through him.
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen.”
“And she said that?”
“She thought she was helping.”
“No.”
Delphine looked at him.
“No?”
“She was teaching you to make other people comfortable.”
The words struck harder than he intended.
Delphine's eyes became wet.
Casius reached up.
Then stopped.
“May I?”
She understood.
After a moment, she nodded.
He gently moved a strand of hair away from her cheek.
His fingers never touched the scar.
He simply looked at her.
Delphine's breathing changed.
“What?” she whispered.
“Nothing.”
“You're staring.”
“So?”
“People stare.”
“Then let them.”
She almost laughed.
Then Casius said:
“They hid the wrong daughter.”
Delphine's smile vanished.
Not because the words hurt.
Because they didn't.
That frightened her more.
Before either could speak again, Gideon entered.
“We found Matteo.”
Casius turned.
“Where?”
“Not where. What.”
He handed Casius a file.
Matteo had been living under the name Michael Ferran.
Texas.
Mississippi.
Louisiana.
Businesses opened and closed.
Shell companies.
One connected to Bowmont Maritime.
Another connected to Anthony Vescari.
Casius flipped pages.
Then stopped.
A document showed ownership of a medical supply company.
The company had supplied St. Catherine Rehabilitation Center.
Delphine understood immediately.
“The medication.”
“Yes.”
Matteo could have accessed it.
A dead man had tried to kill his own brother.
But Gideon had more.
“There's a masquerade gala tomorrow night at the Bowmont mansion.”
“I know.”
“Matteo is expected to attend.”
Delphine frowned.
“How?”
“Private guest list. Sterling's office.”
Casius closed the file.
“Then we're going.”
The next night, Delphine descended the Ferraro staircase in an ivory gown.
Casius forgot what he had intended to say.
Her shoulders were bare.
Her hair was pinned back.
And for the first time in eleven years, she had not hidden her scar.
A delicate silver masquerade mask framed it rather than concealing it.
“You're staring again,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Casius smiled.
“Let them.”
At the Bowmont mansion, conversations stopped when they entered.
Camille stared.
Marjo covered her mouth.
Sterling looked furious.
Casius rolled beside Delphine through the ballroom.
For eleven years, the Bowmont family had trained New Orleans not to look at her.
Now everyone looked.
And Delphine did not lower her head.
Later, while music played, Casius saw Matteo across the ballroom.
Masked.
Watching.
Their eyes met.
Matteo smiled.
Then disappeared through a side door.
Casius followed.
Delphine stayed beside him.
They reached an empty corridor.
A voice came from behind them.
“You always were stubborn, little brother.”
Casius stopped.
Matteo stepped from the shadows.
Alive.
Real.
Smiling.
Casius looked at the brother he had mourned for six years.
“Why?”
Matteo's smile faded.
“Because Father chose you.”
“What?”
“You still don't know.”
Matteo glanced toward Delphine.
Then back at Casius.
“The crash wasn't meant to kill you.”
Casius's eyes narrowed.
Matteo leaned closer.
“It was supposed to make you exactly what you became.”
May you like
He looked down at the wheelchair.
“And it worked.”
