Chapter 2 - THE BRIDE WHO OWNED NOTHING
Ren had spent most of her adult life believing she owned very little.
She rented a one-bedroom apartment above a bakery in South Boston.
She drove a twelve-year-old Honda.
She worked as an architectural conservator, restoring historic churches, libraries, and public buildings.
Her bank account rarely contained enough money to make her feel comfortable.
The wedding had cost nearly all her savings.
And now a stranger was telling her that her fiancé had tried to steal an inheritance she didn't know existed.
Ren looked at the document.
“This must be a mistake.”
Matteo shook his head.
“I wish it were.”
Derek stepped forward.
“Ren, don't listen to him.”
She turned.
“Did you sign my name?”
“No.”
Matteo raised an eyebrow.
Derek corrected himself.
“Not exactly.”
A bitter laugh escaped Ren.
“Not exactly?”
“It's complicated.”
“Then explain it.”
Derek looked toward the guests.
His mother sat rigid in the second pew.
Cassandra stood near the altar, pale and trembling.
Derek lowered his voice.
“Your grandfather left behind some old commercial interests. I was trying to protect you from legal trouble.”
Ren stared.
“By forging my signature?”
“I didn't forge anything.”
Matteo spoke.
“The document was submitted yesterday afternoon through an attorney acting on your fiancé's instructions.”
Derek's eyes flashed.
“You have no right to discuss private business here.”
Matteo looked at him.
“You brought private business into a wedding.”
Ren felt the words settle inside her.
She looked at Father Molina.
“I'm sorry.”
He shook his head.
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
Then she turned toward the guests.
“The ceremony is canceled. Thank you for coming. I'm sorry for the inconvenience.”
Her voice shook only on the final word.
She stepped away from the altar.
Derek reached toward her again.
Matteo moved between them.
“Don't.”
Derek stopped.
Ren looked at the stranger.
“I don't know you.”
“No.”
“Then why are you helping me?”
For the first time, something shifted in Matteo's expression.
“Because I knew your grandfather.”
Ren froze.
“My grandfather died when I was fourteen.”
“I know.”
Matteo looked toward the church windows.
“He saved my life once.”
Twenty minutes later, Ren sat in Father Molina's office.
Her parents were beside her.
Matteo stood near the door.
His three companions waited outside.
Ren's father, Samuel Navarro, looked bewildered.
“Papa never mentioned a trust.”
Matteo nodded.
“He had reasons.”
Ren's mother crossed her arms.
“What reasons?”
Matteo looked at Ren.
“Your grandfather owned a specialized maritime restoration company. It repaired historic vessels, commercial docks, and waterfront structures.”
“I know.”
“What you may not know is that he also held long-term lease rights to several valuable waterfront parcels.”
Ren frowned.
“Where?”
“East Boston. Chelsea. And a former shipyard in Everett.”
Her father stared.
“Those properties were sold.”
Matteo shook his head.
“Some were. Others were placed in trust.”
Ren felt cold.
“Why didn't anyone tell us?”
Matteo hesitated.
“Because your grandfather believed certain people would try to take them.”
She looked toward the door.
“Derek?”
“Not originally.”
Matteo unfolded another document.
“Someone discovered the trust's existence six months ago.”
Ren stared at the date.
Six months.
Derek had proposed seven months earlier.
She felt sick.
“Are you saying he proposed because of this?”
Matteo's expression remained carefully neutral.
“I'm saying the timing deserves investigation.”
Ren closed her eyes.
The wedding dress suddenly felt impossibly heavy.
Her mother took her hand.
“Sweetheart.”
Ren opened her eyes.
“I want to go home.”
Matteo nodded.
“I can arrange transportation.”
“No.”
She stood.
“I'll go with my parents.”
For a moment, Matteo looked surprised.
Then he stepped aside.
“Of course.”
Ren looked at him.
“If you have evidence, send it to my attorney.”
“Who is your attorney?”
“I'll find one.”
Matteo nodded.
“Good.”
She walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
“Mr. Caruso?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for stopping him from grabbing me.”
May you like
His expression softened.
“You shouldn't have needed anyone to.”
