“Actually, Claire, you won’t be coming tomorrow.” Margaret said it while standing in my kitchen, drinking coffee from a mug I had bought, in a house where she had never once knocked before entering. For a second, I honestly thought I had misheard her.

While the Bennett wedding ceremony was getting underway in the grand chapel at Ashford Hall, I was standing on the rooftop terrace of The Grandview Club—an exclusive private venue overlooking the Ohio River.

I was wearing a sleek, floor-length emerald green gown. Beside me stood Marcus Vance—Harrison Vance’s older brother, and the managing director of Vance Global Logistics, one of the largest shipping firms in the Midwest.

Marcus wasn't at his nephew Ryan’s wedding because he had been hosting a high-stakes corporate gala at The Grandview Club—an event that I had personally overseen for his company for the past three years.

“You look breathtaking, Claire,” Marcus said, handing me a glass of champagne as we watched the sun begin to set over the river. “Though I must admit, I was surprised when Rosa told me you’d be personally supervising my gala tonight instead of attending your sister-in-law’s wedding.”

I took a light sip of the champagne, looking out at the city lights.

“Let’s just say my presence wasn't required at Ashford Hall tonight, Marcus,” I replied smoothly.

Marcus chuckled, his sharp blue eyes crinkling at the corners. At forty-two, Marcus was sharp, exceptionally powerful, and completely unbothered by social games. He had been a widower for four years and had always treated me with absolute professional respect—and, if I was honest with myself, a subtle, quiet admiration that I had previously ignored out of loyalty to my marriage.

“My brother Harrison called me an hour ago,” Marcus said, leaning against the balcony railing next to me. “He told me what happened at the rehearsal yesterday. He said your mother-in-law had to ask him for an eighteen-thousand-dollar personal loan because her venue discount vanished.”

I sighed lightly. “I’m sorry Harrison was dragged into that.”

“Don't be,” Marcus smiled warmly. “Harrison was furious at Margaret, not you. In fact, Harrison told me Eleanor gave Mrs. Bennett a verbal dressing-down in the bridal suite that left the woman practically speechless.”

“Eleanor did that?” I raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“Eleanor hates pretension,” Marcus explained. “She came from a working-class family in Cleveland before Harrison made partner. When she found out Margaret had insulted you for having a service background... well, Eleanor was ready to pull Ryan out of the wedding entirely.”

I looked down at my glass, feeling a strange mixture of relief and validation. For eight years, Margaret had made me feel like an outsider, convincing Daniel that his family was superior to me in every conceivable way. Yet the truly powerful, wealthy people Margaret desperately sought to emulate held more respect for my hard work than Margaret ever would.

“Daniel called me six times tonight, Marcus,” I confessed quietly. “He signed the emergency venue agreement, but he’s texting me saying I ruined his family’s night.”

Marcus turned his body toward me, looking down at me with deep sincerity.

“Daniel Bennett is an idiot, Claire,” Marcus said directly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “He had a brilliant, resilient, self-made woman who spent years lifting his family up, and he let his mother treat her like a shadow. If he can't see what he lost... he doesn't deserve you for another second.”

My heart did a slow, steady pulse against my chest.

“Thank you, Marcus,” I whispered.

“I’m just stating facts,” Marcus smiled softly, raising his glass toward mine. “Now, as the managing director of this fine establishment... will you honor me with a dance before the dinner service begins?”