The Grand Ballroom of the Wellington Hotel was halfway through rehearsal. Florists climbed ladders around enormous centerpieces, technicians called lighting cues, and the event planner moved between them with a headset and a ruined schedule.
Jessica stood beneath the chandeliers wearing my necklace. The sight stopped me beside a crate of champagne glasses before she noticed I had entered.
The Archer Star was a flawless diamond my grandfather had commissioned for my grandmother. My mother wore it at every trust anniversary, and after her death it passed to me with the rest of the family pieces.
Jessica touched the stone as she approached, making sure I watched it move against her throat. Mark followed a step behind her and looked pleased with the choice.
“Mark insisted,” she said. “Such
