Chapter 3
The silence in the showroom grew suffocating.
Victoria’s fingers trembled against the fabric of her white blazer as she processed the impossible reality before her.
"Where did you get that key?" Victoria asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Martha lowered her hand, letting the rusted brass piece dangle from its frayed cord.
"It was clamped in Clara’s hand when the recovery divers finally brought her personal effects ashore," Martha said flatly.
"Your father had his own key, issued to the commanding officers.
Clara took his during the struggle at the bulkhead."
Victoria’s mind raced back to her childhood memories.
She remembered her father cleaning his service medals at the mahogany desk, always touching a small scratch on his own brass key with a haunted look in his eyes.
"He told me he got that scratch during a training accident," Victoria said defensively, though her conviction was crumbling.
"He told you a fairy tale to help you sleep while he built an empire on stolen patents," Martha replied.
"Clara’s biometric sensors are wired into this dress.
The blue light isn't decorative.
It’s a localized beacon."
As if responding to Martha's words, the blue pulses on the bridal gown quickened.
They formed a steady, urgent rhythm that seemed to synchronize with Victoria’s own racing heartbeat.
"Why are you here now?" Victoria demanded, trying to regain control of the situation.
"Why bring this to my wedding boutique days before the ceremony?"
"Because your fiancé, Julian Vance, is the son of the lead investor who ordered the hatch locked," Martha said.
The revelation hit Victoria like a physical blow.
She stumbled, catching herself on the edge of the glass counter.
"Julian’s family made their fortune in shipping logistics," Victoria stammered.
"They had nothing to do with the Navy."
"They owned the deep-sea salvage rights," Martha corrected.
"They recovered the sub secretly three years ago, stripped the prototype tech, and left the remains to rust."
Martha stepped closer, her scarred face inches from Victoria’s.
"And Julian bought this boutique for you using the exact liquidation funds from that salvage operation."
Victoria stared down at the dress.
May you like
The black pearls and white beads suddenly looked less like haute couture and more like mourning stones.
Outside the boutique windows, a sleek black sedan pulled up to the curb.
