"Hold this."
Jenna shoved a bouquet of silk flowers into Elida's chest.
They were at the Vera Wang flagship store on Madison Avenue. Elida's father had called her that morning, threatening to cut off her mother's life support funding if she didn't "support your cousin" during her fittings.
So here Elida was. The shadow bride who was treated like the maid.
"The train is too long," Jenna complained to the terrified shop assistant. "It's dragging."
"It's a cathedral train, Miss Adkins," the assistant whispered.
"Well, make the cathedral cleaner."
Jenna's phone rang. She answered it, putting it on speaker as she turned to look at her backside in the mirror.
"Miss Adkins," a lawyer's voice crackled. "Regarding the Crane prenuptial, Appendix B. The Spousal Fiduciary Responsibility clause."
"In English, please," Jenna snapped. "I'm busy."
"It outlines the transfer of certain non-liquid assets into a trust, managed by the spouse, to shield them from federal seizure in the event of an indictment. Standard procedure for a man of his stature."
Elida's ears perked up.
"However," the lawyer continued, "it also stipulates that the managing trustee-you-would assume full liability for any pre-existing financial irregularities discovered within that trust. It's a poison pill provision, buried in boilerplate."
Elida froze.
Abraham wasn't looking for a wife. He was looking for a fall guy.
If the DOJ came for him, he needed a legally appointed scapegoat to take the financial hit and the prison time.
Jenna waved her hand. "Whatever. He's rich. How much trouble can he get into? Just sign it."
She didn't understand. She didn't know about the shell corporations, the offshore accounts, the razor-thin line he walked every day.
The door to the shop opened. Gemma Crane, Abraham's cousin, breezed in.
"Jenna!" she shrieked, kissing the air near her cousin's cheek. "Did you hear? The Feds froze the Cayman accounts this morning."
The shop went silent.
Jenna turned pale. "What? Does that mean... the wedding budget?"
"Oh, honey," Gemma laughed. "It means if you marry him, you might want to hide your jewelry."
Jenna looked at her reflection. For the first time, Elida saw fear.
Jenna wasn't scared for Abraham. She was scared for her lifestyle.
Elida slipped away to the restroom.
She leaned against the sink, looking at herself in the mirror.
She should tell her. She should warn her that she was walking into a trap. That Abraham was dangerous.
But then she remembered the way Jenna looked at her when she played the piano. The way she called Elida "the help."
She washed her hands.
"Let her sign," she whispered to her reflection.
When she came back out, Jenna was yelling at an intern who had stepped on her veil.
"You clumsy idiot! Do you know how much this costs?"
Elida stood by the wall, watching.
Abraham had chosen a shield made of glass. She was going to shatter the moment the first stone was thrown.
