Chapter 2
Before Bianca, the girls had filled every room with noise.
Ava was the leader.
Mia asked questions faster than adults could answer.
Chloe climbed everything.
Grace carried a stuffed lamb called Mr. Wool everywhere, including the bathtub if no one stopped her.
They were identical enough to confuse strangers, but never me.
Ava had a tiny crescent-shaped mark near her left eyebrow.
Mia twisted her hair when nervous.
Chloe laughed before delivering the punch line to jokes she barely understood.
Grace watched everyone carefully before deciding whether they were safe.
Their mother, Elizabeth, died when the girls were two.
A sudden illness.
Seven weeks from the first hospital appointment to the funeral.
I became a forty-room mansion’s only functioning parent overnight.
Money solved logistics.
It did not solve grief.
I could hire nurses, cooks, drivers, and tutors.
I could not make four toddlers understand why their mother’s chair remained empty.
For a year, I refused to date.
Then Bianca joined Whitmore Technologies as an events consultant.
She was polished, observant, and unusually patient around the girls.
At least in front of me.
She remembered their favorite colors.
Brought Grace a replacement stuffed lamb after Mr. Wool disappeared during a charity gala.
Kneeled when speaking to them instead of towering over them.
People told me I looked alive again.
What they meant was that Bianca made our family photograph easier to view.
She was beautiful.
Young.
Controlled.
The girls seemed to accept her.
I wanted to believe that was enough.
Mason Reed, my chief financial officer and oldest friend, warned me before the wedding.
“She studies access,” he said.
“She organizes things. That’s her job.”
“She organizes people too.”
I accused him of distrusting anyone who entered my life after Elizabeth.
He did not argue.
He only asked me to keep the girls’ trusts separate and Bianca’s spending authority limited.
I agreed because refusing would have required admitting his concern frightened me.
Bianca and I married ten months later.
The girls wore pale-blue dresses and carried white roses.
During the ceremony, Grace reached for Bianca’s hand.
Bianca took it.
Everyone smiled.
I did too.
I did not notice Bianca’s expression when Grace smeared chocolate icing across her wedding gown at the reception.
But the photographer captured it.
Not anger.
May you like
Disgust.
Read the full story 👉 Ethan believed Bianca had chosen his family, but Mason saw that she was studying what marriage would allow her to control.
