Chapter 1 - The Long Walk
The gravel crunched beneath my heels. With every step, the low, elegant hum of three hundred wealthy guests died away, replaced by a suffocating, echoing silence. The cellist missed a note. Then, the music stopped completely.
I kept my eyes locked forward. I didn't look at the venture capitalists in the third row, or the senator’s wife who was currently clutching her pearls so hard the string looked ready to snap. I didn't look at my sister, Chloe, who was walking ahead of me with a spine made of steel.
I looked only at the altar.
At the end of the aisle stood Julian, his custom Italian tuxedo immaculate, his handsome face frozen in a mask of absolute horror. Beside him in the front row was his mother, Victoria. She had risen from her seat, her champagne-colored fascinator trembling. I saw the exact moment her smug satisfaction fractured into sheer, unadulterated panic. She had expected me to cower in the bridal suite, sobbing over ruined silk, begging to delay the ceremony.
She had not expected a warrior marching into battle wearing her war paint.
The oily sludge on my dress clung to me like a shadow, smelling of rot and ruined promises. When my father and I finally stopped at the altar, Julian stepped forward, his voice a frantic hiss. "Elena, what the hell are you doing? You look insane. Get inside right now."
I didn't step back. Instead, I let go of my father’s arm, stepped up to the altar, and leaned into my fiancé’s ear.
"Your mother overlooked one detail," I whispered, my voice carrying just enough for Victoria to hear. "I hold the truth that will burn your empire to the ground."
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Julian blinked, his charming facade slipping. "What?"
I turned to the priest, who was clutching his Bible like a shield. "We won't be needing that, Father," I said clearly. I turned my head toward the back of the venue. "Chloe. Hit play."
