Chapter 6: The Woman Behind the Butterfly Wings
The next morning, Brielle received an official email from the Midnight Masquerade Foundation.
It confirmed her appearance as the featured guest performer.
She called Vanessa immediately.
I knew because I was standing outside the kitchen when the call came through on the house speaker.
"Mother! They confirmed it!""
Vanessa practically jumped from her chair.
"Really?""
"Yes! I'm officially the fairy queen!""
"Oh, darling!""
Brielle squealed.
"Can you believe it? They're even giving me a private dressing suite!""
Vanessa hugged her.
"I told you everything would work out.""
I stood quietly near the doorway, holding a cup of coffee.
Brielle noticed me.
Her smile widened.
"Oh, Camille. Guess what?""
I took a sip.
"What?""
"I'm going to be the face of the Halloween gala.""
"Congratulations.""
She frowned.
"That's all?""
"What else should I say?""
"Perhaps that you're proud of me.""
I placed my cup down.
"Would you like me to clap?""
Vanessa stepped forward.
"Don't ruin this moment.""
I looked at Brielle.
"Enjoy it. You've worked very hard to get there.""
She smiled triumphantly.
"That's right. Some people are born for the spotlight.""
I nodded.
"Some people build it.""
She rolled her eyes.
"Whatever.""
Then she grabbed her phone.
"I need to post another announcement.""
She hurried upstairs.
Vanessa watched her disappear before turning toward me.
"You're being unusually pleasant.""
"Am I?""
"Yes. I expected another argument about the gown.""
I glanced toward the staircase.
"I've decided not to fight over it.""
Vanessa studied my face.
"Good. You're finally learning.""
I smiled.
"Perhaps.""
She returned to her coffee.
Then she said something that made me stop.
"After the gala, Brielle will have access to the family company. We can finally move forward without you creating unnecessary difficulties.""
I looked at her.
"Is that what Martin told you?""
Her hand froze around the coffee cup.
"Why would you mention Martin?""
"No reason.""
I picked up my cup.
"Just curious.""
I walked away before she could ask another question.
At noon, I met with my attorney, Olivia Grant.
Olivia was a sharp, forty-year-old corporate lawyer who had handled several complicated inheritance disputes. She had been recommended by Eleanor and had already reviewed my father's trust.
We met in a private conference room overlooking Madison Avenue.
She spread the documents across the table.
"The transfer request is fraudulent," she said.
"I know.""
"Your stepmother has no legal authority to sign on your behalf. The signature appears to have been digitally reproduced.""
"And Martin?""
Olivia examined the supporting documents.
"He's in a much more difficult position. If these records are authentic, he could be facing serious allegations involving fraud, breach of fiduciary duty, and financial misconduct.""
I showed her the recording.
She listened without interrupting.
When it ended, she removed her glasses.
"Where did you get this?""
"My father left it.""
"Has anyone else heard it?""
"Only me and my housekeeper.""
Olivia nodded.
"We need to preserve the original and have the audio professionally authenticated. Do not confront either of them with this recording.""
I leaned forward.
"What about the gala?""
"That's a separate matter. We can issue a formal notice concerning the unauthorized use of your design.""
"I don't want to stop Brielle from attending.""
Olivia raised an eyebrow.
"Why not?""
"Because I want the committee to hear the truth directly.""
"Camille, public confrontations can become messy.""
"I know.""
"And if your stepmother has been manipulating documents, we need to be careful.""
I looked at the photographs of my father's handwriting.
"I don't want revenge for the sake of revenge. I want my father's name protected.""
Olivia studied me.
Then she nodded.
"All right. We'll prepare everything. But I want you to understand one thing.""
"What?""
"Once the gala begins, you may not be able to control what comes out.""
I smiled faintly.
"That's exactly why I'm going.""
That afternoon, I visited the studio where my original gown had been created.
The designer, Isabelle Laurent, greeted me with a warm embrace.
She was a petite French woman with silver-rimmed glasses and a habit of speaking to fabric as though it were alive.
"Camille! My darling! I have been waiting for you.""
She stepped back and examined me.
"Are you eating? You look exhausted.""
I laughed.
"That's a very French way of asking if I'm all right.""
"Because I am French, and I have eyes.""
I followed her into the main studio.
Several assistants were working on costumes for the gala.
On one table lay the original sketches of my butterfly gown.
Isabelle pointed toward them.
"I saw your stepsister's video.""
I sighed.
"Everyone has.""
"She removed the support straps.""
"I know.""
"She also damaged the wing joints.""
I closed my eyes.
"How bad?""
"Very bad. The wings were designed to move with the performer's body. Without the original mechanism, they will not open properly.""
"Can you repair them?""
Isabelle smiled.
"Of course. But I have a better idea.""
She walked toward a large wardrobe at the back of the studio.
Then she unlocked it.
Inside was another gown.
I stopped breathing.
It was almost identical to the stolen dress, but more elaborate.
The bodice was made from pale turquoise silk, with delicate silver crystals arranged like butterfly scales. Layers of ice-blue fabric flowed down the skirt.
The wings were enormous.
Unlike Brielle's version, these wings were made from ultra-light translucent material with embedded fiber-optic threads.
They shimmered even in the dim studio.
"Isabelle...""
She smiled.
"The original design was never the final design.""
I walked closer.
"What is this?""
"Your true opening gown.""
I touched the fabric.
It felt impossibly soft.
"You made another one?""
"Naturally. You told me you wanted a surprise.""
I looked at her.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because you said you wanted to feel like a fairy queen, not like a woman attending a costume party.""
She stepped back.
"And I intend to make that happen.""
I stared at the wings.
"What about the damaged gown?""
Isabelle's smile became mischievous.
"Let your sister wear it.""
I laughed.
For the first time in days, I laughed without feeling angry.
Then Isabelle became serious.
"Camille, there is something else. A woman called yesterday.""
"Who?""
"Your stepmother.""
My smile disappeared.
"What did she want?""
"She asked whether I could provide a certificate stating that Brielle was the original designer.""
I closed my eyes.
"Of course she did.""
"I refused.""
"Thank you.""
"But she offered me a substantial amount of money.""
I turned toward her.
"How much?""
"Two hundred thousand dollars.""
I stared.
"She offered you two hundred thousand dollars to lie?""
Isabelle shrugged.
"Apparently, she believes my principles have a price.""
I looked at the sketches.
"Did you record the conversation?""
Isabelle smiled.
"My dear, I have been in fashion for forty years. I learned long ago never to negotiate with dishonest people without keeping a record.""
She handed me a small USB drive.
"Everything is there.""
I took it.
"You're incredible.""
"Yes, I know.""
We both laughed.
But my laughter faded when my phone rang.
An unfamiliar number appeared.
I answered.
"Hello?""
A man's voice spoke.
"Miss Bennett? My name is Robert Hayes. I'm an investigator working with the estate's insurance company.""
I straightened.
"How can I help you?""
"I've been reviewing the circumstances surrounding your father's death.""
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"Why?""
"Because a claim was recently reopened concerning a discrepancy in the original medical records.""
I looked at Isabelle.
She immediately stopped working.
"What discrepancy?""
There was a pause.
"Your father's hospitalization was recorded as the result of a sudden medical emergency. However, the hospital received an anonymous payment several days later. The payment was made by a company connected to Martin Caldwell.""
My stomach turned.
"What are you saying?""
"I'm saying that the payment was never properly explained.""
"Do you believe Martin was involved in my father's death?""
"I can't make that determination. But I believe someone deliberately concealed information.""
I walked toward the studio window.
"Who made the payment?""
"That's what we're trying to establish.""
"Can you send me the records?""
"I can arrange a meeting. But there's another issue.""
"What?""
"Your stepmother recently contacted the insurance company and requested access to your father's original medical file.""
I closed my eyes.
"Why?""
"She claimed she was acting on behalf of the family.""
I ended the call only after arranging a meeting.
For several minutes, I stood motionless.
Isabelle approached.
"Camille?""
I turned.
"My father's death may not have been what we were told.""
She took my hand.
"Then we find the truth.""
I nodded.
And I knew exactly where to begin.
That evening, I returned to the mansion and found Brielle standing in the foyer.
She was holding a large black box.
"Look what arrived!""
Vanessa came running from the living room.
"Oh, darling!""
Brielle opened the box.
Inside was a jeweled butterfly crown.
It was covered in diamonds and turquoise stones, with two delicate silver antennae extending from the sides.
"Isn't it beautiful?"" Brielle asked.
Vanessa gasped.
"Absolutely stunning.""
Brielle placed it on her head and turned toward me.
"Well?""
I looked at the crown.
"Beautiful.""
She grinned.
"I thought so.""
Then she tilted her head.
"There's something else.""
She pulled a folded piece of paper from the box.
It was an official gala program.
I scanned the page.
Under the opening performance was a photograph of Brielle wearing my stolen gown.
Beneath it were the words:
*THE FAIRY QUEEN — BRIELLE BENNETT.*
My name was nowhere.
Not even in the design credits.
Brielle watched my face carefully.
"Do you like it?""
I looked at her.
"Who approved that program?""
"Everyone important.""
"Everyone?""
"Yes. The committee, the sponsors, and the foundation.""
I studied the photograph again.
Then I noticed a small detail in the bottom corner.
The official Asteria emblem.
The silver butterfly.
Brielle hadn't noticed it.
She thought it was decorative.
I looked at Vanessa.
"Are you sure you want to go ahead with this?""
Vanessa smiled.
"Absolutely.""
"Even if the designer objects?""
Brielle laughed.
"The designer? Please. You made that dress, remember?""
I nodded slowly.
"You're right.""
She looked confused.
"What?""
"Nothing.""
I turned toward the stairs.
Behind me, Vanessa called out.
"Camille, don't forget. The gala is tomorrow night. I expect you to stay home and look after the house while we're away.""
I stopped.
Then I turned around.
"Actually, I have plans.""
Vanessa frowned.
"What plans?""
I smiled.
"An opening ceremony.""
Brielle burst out laughing.
"You're not invited to the opening!""
I walked upstairs without responding.
At the top, I checked my phone.
A message from Eleanor was waiting.
The committee has approved your official introduction. The opening announcement will take place at 8:30 p.m. All major sponsors will be present.
A second message followed.
Your father would have loved this moment.
I looked toward the window.
Tomorrow night, Brielle would walk into the gala believing she was about to become a star.
Vanessa would stand beside her, convinced that everything they had stolen was finally theirs.
And Martin Caldwell would be watching from somewhere in the crowd.
I opened the wardrobe.
My new gown was waiting inside its protective cover.
I ran my fingers over the translucent wings.
Then my phone rang again.
It was Daniel Harrington.
"Camille, I need to warn you about something.""
"What is it?""
"My father has received a private invitation from Vanessa.""
"To the gala?""
"No. To a meeting tonight.""
I frowned.
"Why?""
Daniel lowered his voice.
"She's planning to announce a business acquisition before the opening ceremony.""
"She doesn't own the company.""
"I know. But she has someone willing to sign the documents.""
"Who?""
Daniel hesitated.
Then he said something that made my blood run cold.
"Your father's former attorney.""
I stared at the phone.
"That's impossible. He died two years ago.""
"I know. That's why I checked the signature.""
Daniel took a breath.
"Camille, someone has been using his identity.""
And suddenly, I understood.
The forged transfer documents weren't the only problem.
May you like
Someone had been preparing this takeover for years.
And tomorrow night, they intended to finish it in front of the entire world.
