CHAPTER 2 — THE NAME THAT STOPPED TIME
Vivian Whitmore finally regained control of her voice.
“You have no idea who you’re touching.”
Grace swallowed hard but didn’t look away.
“I know exactly what I saw.”
Vivian laughed once—sharp, offended.
“You saw nothing. You’re a server.”
That word landed like a dismissal.
A cancellation.
Grace felt it—years of invisibility pressing down on her shoulders.
But before Vivian could pull away—
A new voice cut through the room.
Cold. Calm. Controlled.
“Let go of my mother.”
The ballroom froze again.
Dominic DeLuca had stepped fully into the light.
No rush.
No anger in his face.
That was the worst part.
Because anger could be negotiated with.
Calm could not.
Vivian stiffened immediately.
“Dominic—this is a misunderstanding—”
He didn’t look at her.
His eyes were on Grace.
Studying her like a decision.
Like a consequence.
Grace slowly released Vivian’s wrist.
Her heart pounded so loudly she thought the chandeliers might hear it.
Margaret DeLuca spoke softly from the wheelchair.
“Dominic… don’t.”
One sentence.
And something in him paused.
Just slightly.
May you like
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
But Grace saw it.
