Chapter 2

When I walked into the private dining room, Andrew was already there, his face a mask of anxious love. He rushed to my side, his hands warm on my arms.

"There you are, Stella. I was getting worried."

"Just admiring the view," I said, my voice smooth as silk. "It' s a beautiful day for a tasting, isn't it?"

He searched my face, looking for something, but I gave him nothing but a serene smile. He was a winemaker, a man who understood terroir, the unique environment that gives a wine its character. He should have known that the soil of our relationship was now poisoned. How could he not taste the lie on his own tongue?

Just as the sommelier began pouring the first wine, the door opened. Andrew' s mother, Eleanor, swept in, and right behind her was Maria.

Maria, looking pale and appropriately mournful, her hand resting on her small but visible baby bump.

"Stella, darling," Eleanor said, her smile not reaching her eyes. "I thought it would be lovely for Maria to join us. To keep her spirits up. Andrew, you don't mind, do you?"

Andrew froze, a deer in the headlights. "Mom, I... I didn't know you were coming."

"Nonsense. We're all family," she said, steering Maria toward the table.

I watched them, a perfect tableau of deceit. I stood up, my smile widening.

"Of course. What a wonderful idea," I said, my voice bright and welcoming. I walked over to the seat of honor, the one at the head of the table next to Andrew, the one meant for the bride. I pulled it out.

"Maria, please, you must be tired. Take this seat," I insisted. "And you have to try this. It' s the bride' s signature cocktail."

I pushed the carefully crafted, non-alcoholic drink the restaurant had made for me towards her.

Andrew' s face went white. Maria looked from me to Andrew, her eyes wide with a flicker of panic.

"Oh, I couldn't," Maria demurred, her voice soft.

"I insist," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument. I looked directly at Andrew. "We have to take care of her, right? For your brother."

His jaw clenched. He couldn't refuse without revealing everything. He gave a stiff nod.

Maria slowly sat down in the bride' s chair, her hand protectively on her stomach. Eleanor shot me a look, a mixture of suspicion and approval. She thought I was being magnanimous, the perfect, understanding fiancée.

They had no idea. This wasn't kindness. It was the opening move.