Freedom from Wedding Trap

The crystal glasses clinked as I arranged them on the silver tray, each one positioned exactly as Duke had instructed. My white serving uniform felt too tight, too conspicuous—like a target.

"Remember, Katherine," Duke's voice carried from the dining room where he stood with Skylar and his business associates. "No mistakes tonight."

I nodded, though he wasn't looking at me. He never did anymore.

Skylar twirled in her red dress, the diamond bracelet—my sister's medical fund—catching the light. "Oh, Katherine, be careful with that wine. It's Bordeaux, very expensive."

I approached with the wine bottle, careful not to make eye contact with any of the guests. Their conversations halted as I poured, the silence heavy with judgment.

"Clumsy," Skylar murmured, just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Then she did it—deliberately bumped my arm as I poured, sending red wine cascading down the front of my white uniform. The stain spread like blood across snow.

"Oh!" Skylar's hand flew to her mouth in mock horror. "I'm so sorry about the help, everyone. She's usually more... coordinated."

The room filled with uncomfortable laughter. One of the men—Henderson, I think—shook his head. "Perry, where did you find this one?"

Duke's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Katherine, clean yourself up. Now."

I backed away, feeling their stares burn into me. In the hallway mirror, I caught sight of myself—red wine dripping down my chest, humiliation burning my cheeks.

When I returned in a fresh uniform, Skylar was holding court.

"—waited for him for eight years," she was saying, her voice dripping with practiced devotion. "While she betrayed him for money."

"That's not—" I started, then caught myself. Arguing would only make it worse.

"The wedding will be at the estate in Tuscany," Skylar continued, her hand resting possessively on Duke's arm. "We're thinking September, when the vineyards are in bloom."

I served dessert mechanically, each plate a small act of defiance as I refused to break. Skylar described every detail—the flowers, the music, the dress—each word designed to torture me.

"Katherine will be there, of course," she added with a sweet smile. "To witness our happiness."

After the guests left, Duke gestured to the mess. "Clean it up."

"You mean before I go to bed?" I asked, my voice small.

"I mean now," he replied coldly. "All of it."

Skylar yawned dramatically. "We're going to bed, Duke. Don't be too long."

They left me there, surrounded by dirty dishes and wine stains. I worked until 3 AM, scrubbing floors and polishing silver until my hands cramped.

---

"Ms. Olson, I'm afraid I have difficult news." Dr. Martinez's voice crackled through my phone as I hid in the supply closet during my lunch break.

"Sarah's condition is deteriorating faster than we anticipated. The tumor is growing aggressively."

"How long?" I whispered.

"Without intervention? Six weeks, maybe less."

My knees buckled. Six weeks. Duke's wedding was in eight.

"What about the experimental treatment?"

"Still possible, but we need to move quickly. Two hundred thousand dollars, as discussed."

I hung up and rushed to the bank during my break, only to discover what I already knew: everything was frozen. My personal accounts, joint accounts, even the small savings I'd hidden away—all locked behind Duke's legal wall.

---

"Mrs. Perry." Margaret's voice cut through the charity gala like ice. "What a surprise to see you here."

I swallowed hard. "Margaret, I need to speak with you about Sarah's treatment."

She adjusted her pearls, her eyes cold. "I'm afraid I'm quite busy."

"Please," I said, desperation making me bold. "She needs surgery. Without it, she'll—"

"Die?" Margaret finished for me. "How tragic."

I stared at her, unable to comprehend such callousness.

"You brought this on yourself," she continued, low enough that nearby guests couldn't hear. "If you had been loyal to my son, none of this would have happened."

"He's freezing all my assets," I whispered. "Even Sarah's medical fund."

Margaret's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Perhaps you should have considered that before betraying Duke."

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Any further attempts to involve our family in your... situation... will have consequences for Danny."

My blood ran cold. "You wouldn't."

"We're his family," she replied simply. "Blood matters, Katherine."

---

"Katherine, darling!" Skylar's voice rang through the wedding planner's showroom. "The roses must be white peonies, not regular roses."

I nodded, jotting notes as the wedding planner nodded sympathetically at me.

"And the cake needs to be six tiers," Skylar continued. "With gold leaf accents."

The wedding planner glanced at me. "For how many guests?"

"Two hundred," Skylar replied. "All of Duke's closest friends and business associates."

I wrote it down, my hand steady despite the storm inside me.

"Oh, and Katherine," Skylar added as an afterthought, "Duke thinks Danny should start at Wellington Academy after the wedding. Boarding school will be better for him—give him the structure he needs."

My pen froze mid-note.

"Boarding school?" I repeated, my voice hollow.

Skylar's smile widened. "Yes, don't you think it's perfect? He'll be with children from similar backgrounds. Much better than trailing around after his... unstable mother."

The room tilted sideways as the implications hit me. Duke wasn't just taking my freedom—he was taking my son.