7. Rehearsing the Illusion
Chapter seven
Rehearsing the Illusion
At five o’clock on Friday afternoon, the wedding party gathered under the steel arches of The Glass Conservatory. The weekend had officially begun.
Wearing a sharp navy blazer and crisp slacks, Daniel effortlessly worked the room. He shook hands with his groomsmen, charmed the venue coordinators, and pulled me into a warm hug in front of everyone.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured into my hair.
“Really?” I asked, keeping my voice light and teasing as I slipped into my role. “I wouldn’t want you to get cold feet, now of all times.”
“Never,” he shot back smoothly, stepping back with a smile. “You and me… We’re forever.”
Maybe there was something wrong with my head, because I was beginning to find his solemn promises amusing.
Harper walked in shortly after, dressed in a sleek silk slip. She paused in the doorway, her chin lifting as her gaze zeroed in on Daniel. Her lips twisted into a secretive smile.
Daniel caught the look and hesitated. He honestly seemed to consider rushing to her side. In the end, he gave a subtle shake of his head and turned to engage a groomsman. No doubt he realized that catering to his sister-in-law’s whims on his wedding day wouldn’t exactly look good.
Harper’s smile flattened into a tight line of pure annoyance. To give her credit, she hid her frustration better than she normally would have. She just let out a sharp sigh and glided toward the bridesmaids.
The officiant, an older man named Reverend Thomas, clapped his hands to get our attention. “Alright, everyone. Let’s run through the procession. We want the pacing to be natural.”
We spent the next hour practicing the illusion. I moved through the choreography of the ceremony, measuring my steps down the temporary aisle. I passed off an imaginary bouquet to Harper and stepped up to the altar to face the man I was preparing to ruin.
“And then you will exchange vows,” Reverend Thomas instructed, smiling warmly at us. “After the rings, I will pronounce you husband and wife. Daniel, you may kiss the bride.”
“Can we practice that part?” Daniel asked, drawing a loud laugh from the groomsmen.
He didn’t wait for the reverend’s permission. Pulling me flush against his chest, he rested his hands on my lower back and kissed me. It was a flawless performance for the crowd, designed to look spontaneous and deeply romantic.
I kissed him back, letting my hands slide up his chest to sell the lie. But I kept my eyes open.
Over Daniel’s shoulder, Harper watched the kiss. Her eyes narrowed in deep irritation at the display. But beneath it lay something else, an undeniable gleam of smug entitlement. She already knew the man in my arms didn’t belong to me.
After what seemed like forever, Daniel and I finally broke apart. “Perfect,” Reverend Thomas said. “You two are a natural fit.”
Everyone kept saying that. First Sarah, now him. I was so tired of hearing it.
The walkthrough wrapped up, and the wedding party moved to one of The Glass Conservatory’s adjoining private dining rooms. Here, we would be holding the rehearsal dinner.
Two long tables were set for the thirty guests, and the venue staff was waiting at the doors to hand out drinks. Daniel’s parents, Richard and Susan Vance, grabbed their glasses and immediately gravitated toward my mother.
“Marianne!” Susan exclaimed, intercepting me to wrap me in a tight hug. She smelled like expensive perfume and gin, having clearly made quick work of her first cocktail. “Look at you. You are absolutely glowing. Are you nervous?”
“Not at all,” I said. “I’ve never been more prepared for anything in my life.”
“I told Richard on the drive over, Daniel really hit the jackpot,” Susan said, patting my arm. “He works so hard at that firm. We are just thrilled he found someone as driven as he is to share his life with.”
Richard walked over to shake my hand. He had the same sandy-blond hair as Daniel, though his was graying at the temples. “It’s true. The boy never stops moving. Just last month, he told us he’ll be on track for senior management by the time he’s thirty-five.”
I looked at Richard, maintaining my pleasant expression. Daniel was running a con on his own family. His parents genuinely believed he was a rising star in the finance world, completely blind to the fact that his entire lifestyle was a house of cards built on catastrophic debt.
“Daniel certainly knows how to close a deal,” I said smoothly.
Richard laughed, clapping me on the shoulder as we took our seats.
The dinner service began. The venue waitstaff moved seamlessly around the room, pouring wine and serving plates of roasted sea bass and filet mignon. The room grew loud, filled with the sounds of clinking silverware and overlapping conversations.
I sat at the head of the table with Daniel. Harper sat directly across from us. She spent the meal scrolling on her phone beneath the edge of the tablecloth, enduring the evening with restless impatience.
Daniel was still in his element. Holding court at the table, he told engaging stories about his college days with his groomsmen.
He spoke about my architectural firm to his relatives and made sure my mother’s wine glass was never empty.
He played the perfect host, the perfect son, and the perfect fiancé, all without breaking a sweat.
When the dessert plates were cleared, the room grew quiet. The best man, a man named Greg who worked with Daniel, tapped his knife against his glass.
“Alright, alright,” Greg said, standing up. “I’m saving the truly embarrassing stories for the reception tomorrow. But Daniel wanted to say a few words to close out the evening.”
The guests clapped. Daniel stood up. He buttoned his suit jacket and picked up his glass of champagne. Commanding the room’s attention with effortless charm, he let silence settle before speaking.
“I want to thank all of you for being here tonight,” Daniel began. “Looking around this room, I see my family. I see my mentors. I see the people who shaped me.”
He turned his body slightly, directing his entire focus onto me.
“But most importantly, I see Marianne.”
He offered me that slow, devastating smile that used to make my heart race.
“When I met Marianne two years ago, my entire world shifted,” Daniel said, his voice dropping into a softer, more intimate register. “Everyone in this room knows how brilliant she is. You know how successful she is. But what I get to see, every single day, is her heart.”
The older women at the table let out a collective sigh.
“Marianne loves with everything she has,” Daniel continued, reaching down to take my hand.
He pulled me gently to my feet so I was standing next to him.
“She is fiercely protective, unbelievably generous, and she gives everything to the people she cares about. I look at her, and I know how incredibly lucky I am that she chose me.”
I stood there, listening to the words wash over the crowd.
“I promise to spend the rest of my life matching her dedication,” Daniel said, looking deeply into my eyes. “I promise to cherish the life she has given us. I promise to protect her, and to be the unconditionally devoted partner she deserves.”
To his parents, his boss, and my mother, it was a breathtaking, vulnerable declaration of true love. But standing beside him, I heard the exact translation of his con.
She is unbelievably generous. She funds my lifestyle.
I promise to cherish the life she has given us. I can’t wait to access the joint accounts.
I know how incredibly lucky I am. I found the perfect mark.
He wasn’t expressing love. He was bragging. He was standing in front of thirty people, openly boasting about exploiting a generous woman to cover his financial ruin. And all the while, he was completely secure in the belief that I was too blind to see it.
“To Marianne and Daniel!” Greg cheered.
“To Marianne and Daniel!” the room echoed.
The guests drank. Daniel turned and kissed me. The room erupted into applause.
I pulled back from the kiss and plastered a radiant smile across my face. I looked out over the sea of happy, clapping people. My mother was dabbing her eyes with a napkin. Richard was beaming. Harper looked smug. She’d heard what I had, then.
My gaze drifted past the tables, moving toward the back of the private dining room.
Elias stood near the service doors, quietly overseeing his waitstaff. He wore a dark suit, his presence blending naturally into the background of his own venue. He had watched the entire performance.
Our eyes met across the room.
He raised his right hand—a subtle, deliberate salute. It was a silent acknowledgment that we were less than twenty-four hours away from tearing the room apart.
I held his gaze for a second, drawing on that quiet solidarity. Then, I turned back to the table as the applause died down.
The dinner wrapped up thirty minutes later. With the big day tomorrow, tradition dictated that the bride and groom sleep in separate locations. Daniel was staying at a boutique hotel downtown with his groomsmen, while I was returning to the condo.
We stood on the sidewalk outside the venue. The night air was freezing. Daniel zipped up his coat and pulled me in for one last hug.
“Get some sleep,” he said, kissing my cheek. “I will see you at the altar.”
“I’ll be there,” I promised.
I watched him get into a waiting car with Greg before I turned toward my own.
Tomorrow was our wedding day. But to me—and for Daniel—it was more than that. I’d say ‘yes’, knowing I’d soon expose his betrayal.
Daniel had no idea, but he was walking completely blind into his own ruin.