06/01/2026
https://eng.moboreader.com/1Hb6Np/861151
"""Simply breathtaking, Miss Beaumont."" The manager of the Vera Wang boutique clasped her hands together, her voice a reverent hush. ""You are the most beautiful bride I have ever seen. This gown... it was made for you.""
Stella Beaumont stared at her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. The woman looking back was a stranger, encased in a million dollars' worth of ivory silk and hand-sewn pearls. The dress was perfect. Her figure was perfect.
A muffled, insistent vibration cut through the syrupy compliments. It came from her clutch on the velvet settee. Her private phone.
Stella's brow tightened. A knot of ice formed in her stomach. She gave a curt nod to the sales assistant. ""My bag.""
The assistant scurried to retrieve it. The screen lit up with the name: Kaylynn Graves. Her best friend.
She answered, her voice flat. ""Kaylynn.""
""Stella, you need to listen to me, and you need to stay calm!"" Kaylynn's voice was a ragged whisper, stretched thin with a mixture of tears and fury.
In the mirror's reflection, Stella saw the manager and the assistant exchange an uneasy glance, their reflections beginning a discreet retreat toward the door.
""Stay,"" Stella commanded without looking at them. Her gaze was locked on her own reflection. The women froze in place.
""I'm at a cafe on the Upper East Side,"" Kaylynn rushed on, her words tumbling over each other. ""Across from NY Premier Women's Health. I saw his car, Stella. Ethan's Aston Martin.""
The air in Stella's lungs turned to glass. The hand holding the phone grew rigid, her knuckles turning white.
""He just walked out,"" Kaylynn's voice cracked. ""He was... he was holding the door for someone. He was helping her down the steps so carefully. It's her, Stella. It's Isabelle Beaumont.""
A sharp chime announced an incoming message. A photo. With a thumb that felt disconnected from her body, Stella navigated to the text."