The recording played through the phone’s tiny speaker while no one in the conference room moved.
“Once we’re married, your sister’s account becomes ours,” Matt’s voice said.
“She won’t fight you in public.
People like her care too much about looking reasonable.”
There was a faint sound of Sophie crying on the recording.
Then Matt spoke again.
“Send the message.
Tell her not to come.”
Sophie stood beside the conference table with both hands wrapped around the phone.
Her knuckles were white.
A bruise-colored shadow rested beneath one eye, partly hidden by makeup that had begun to separate near her cheekbone.
I had seen injuries in training rooms, motor pools, hospital corridors, and overseas clinics.
I knew better than to decide what had caused one before the person wearing it was ready to speak.
But I also knew fear when I saw it.
The wedding coordinator, Elena Ruiz, lowered herself into a chair.
My attorney, Daniel Cho, reached forward and stopped the recording.
“Sophie,” he said gently, “is Matt aware that you have his phone?”
She shook her head.
A fist struck the glass wall outside.
Elena jumped.
Matt stood in the hallway, his face red, his suit jacket unbuttoned.
He had somehow learned that we were meeting at the venue’s administrative office.
He slapped his palm against the glass and pointed at Sophie.
“Open the door.”
She moved closer to me.
Daniel locked the conference room from inside and pressed a button beneath the table.
A small blue light appeared beside the door.
“Security has been notified,” he said.
Matt’s expression changed instantly.
The rage disappeared.
His shoulders lowered.
He smoothed his tie and smiled through the glass as if we were all guests who had misunderstood a joke.
“Sophie,” he called, his voice softened by the door.
“Baby, tell them this is a family disagreement.”
Sophie’s breathing became shallow.
I stood, not between her and the glass but beside her.
I wanted her to see that I was not going to make decisions over her head, even now.
“Do you want him in this room?” I asked.
“No.”
It was barely a whisper.
“Then he stays outside.”
Matt read her answer on her face.
The smile vanished.
He hit the glass again.
“You ungrateful little liar!”
Two venue security officers appeared at the end of the hallway.
Matt stepped back, raised both hands, and began speaking before they reached him.
“My fiancée is having an emotional episode.
Her sister is military and has always controlled her finances.
I came to help.”
He said it smoothly.
He had practiced being believed.
Daniel opened the door only far enough to speak with the officers.
He identified himself, explained that the property owner had requested Matt’s removal, and handed one officer a printed copy of the deed.
Matt stared at me.
