Chapter Sixty-One Adrianna
Chapter Sixty-One
ADRIANNA
When I arrive back at Fortune House, Georgia almost falls over as she rushes to greet me. The silk scarf holding her curls from her face is slightly askew.
‘Where have you been?’ she demands.
‘I was on the beach,’ I say. ‘Georgia, do you know where Petra and Ophelia were just now? Because there was writing, in the sand.’ I’m caught between not wanting to scare her, and ensuring she takes the threat in the sand seriously.
‘Dri,’ says Georgia, ‘there’s been some news—’
We’re interrupted by a voice from the stairs. ‘I came as fast as I could.’
‘Mark!’ I rush toward him, momentarily forgetting the frightening message on the sand. I press my cheek against his chest. I flick my eyes to Georgia, but for once she doesn’t pick up on the cue to leave.
‘Mark,’ Georgia interrupts, ‘did you check your social media?’
I feel a lurch in my stomach. In the Kensington family, that statement is loaded to say the least.
‘What is she talking about?’ I glance up at Mark’s face, hoping his expression will rescue the moment. It doesn’t.
‘She doesn’t know?’ he asks Georgia, dumbfounded.
‘Dri,’ she squeezes my hand. ‘A video of Simone’s death was uploaded onto social media last night. They found the killer.’
I’m settled over Mark’s laptop, with Georgia. I grip her hand tightly. Mark’s finger hovers over the button to play Silky’s late-night upload.
‘It’s got two million shares now,’ he says grimly. ‘You’re sure you want to see it?’
‘I want to see it.’ I feel as though my eyes are glued to the screen. It holds a frozen shot of the Plaza ceiling, instantly recognizable by its famous cornicing. As the video rolls into motion, a wide-eyed face comes into shot.
Silky. A smear of blood on her cheek. Her dark eyes roll to the camera.
‘I did it,’ she whispers. ‘I killed Simone.’ Her face crumples. ‘It was an accident.’
The camera goes black. We all sit in silence for a moment. ‘The video is timestamped the night of the murder,’ explains Mark. ‘Police verified it.’
‘Why would Silky upload this?’ I whisper. My eyes track to the comments below, which already total 10k and are multiplying before my eyes. ‘Can we … is there any way to take it down?’
‘I’m sure the police are working on it,’ says Mark. ‘But that won’t stop people seeing it. It hit one million views already.’
‘But why?’ I demand. ‘Why would Silky kill Simone? Why would she do that to Simone’s body?’
‘Why would she say it was an accident?’ asks Mark. ‘You don’t accidentally bludgeon someone with a pole.’
‘Silky was a little crazy,’ says Georgia. ‘Maybe it was … some kind of unhinged reaction. Her art was always a manifestation of inner trauma.’
‘I guess … she just overloaded,’ I say finally, wondering why the words aren’t matching my emotions.
Mark folds his arms around me, and I allow myself one last blissful moment of safety. Because I’m certain of what must be coming.
‘I don’t blame you, if you want to call off the wedding,’ I say sadly, my eyes searching his face. ‘My life is crazy. Crazy.’
‘Why would I call the wedding off?’ He shakes his head. ‘I love you, Adrianna. It’s sad about Silky, but this is also good news. Simone’s killer has been exposed. You can have the wedding you always wanted. No security guards lurking in the aisle.’
I lower my voice. ‘You really still want to go ahead with the wedding?’
‘You didn’t think I would?’
I shake my head slowly. ‘No,’ I admit. ‘I figured …’
Mark takes both my hands in his. ‘Do you remember what you told me, when I proposed?’
I give him a small smile. ‘I wanted to know if you really knew what you were asking.’
‘Right,’ he nods sagely. ‘Then you told me, what it means to marry Adrianna Kensington. You said I was going to somehow have to manage to live with fear. The knowledge my wife might be kidnapped if she goes for a walk. The fact that if we have children, we’ll need a security detail to accompany them to school.
The nanny might secretly sell pictures of our babies,’ he takes a breath. ‘Remember what I said?’
I smile. ‘You said “I do.”’
‘Exactly,’ he nods, still smiling. ‘And I’m a businessman, remember? I’m used to dealing with high-risk companies.’
‘I love you,’ I tell him, taking a breath, and trying to push back the tears.
Then I catch Georgia’s expression out of the corner of my eye, and reality crashes in. This wedding is far bigger than Mark and me. Georgia knows, more than I do, what this wedding is worth to the family fortunes.
‘It’s OK to cry, Dri,’ says Georgia, a strange look on her face.
‘No, it isn’t,’ I tell her wanly. ‘We have a photoshoot for the sponsor in half an hour.’
Georgia’s eyes switch to mine, stricken.
‘Dri, the fashion sponsor cancelled,’ she says quietly. ‘Silky’s confession – it’s too strong for their brand.’
‘What?’ The word rings out like a gunshot in the luxe dining room.