Chapter 9 - The White Veil
The bridal suite at Holy Trinity Cathedral was filled with the scents of white lilies, expensive hairspray, and champagne.
Vanessa stood before the three-way floor-to-ceiling mirror, admiring herself. The gown was a masterpiece—French lace cascading down twenty feet of cathedral train, studded with thousands of hand-sewn Swarovski crystals. On her head sat a delicate diamond tiara, sparkling under the chandeliers.
Her maid of honor, Chloe, clapped her hands in adoration. "Vanessa, you look like royalty! Forty million dollars and the most eligible bachelor in the tech sector. You really won the lottery."
Vanessa admired her reflection, turning her head from side to side. Her smile was cold, victorious, devoid of any genuine love or sentiment.
"Winning isn't luck, Chloe," Vanessa said, picking up her diamond-encrusted bridal purse. "It's strategy. Daniel was easy. Men who spend their lives looking at computer code are starved for affection. You give them a little devotion, play the sweet domestic partner, and they'll hand you the keys to their empire."
"What about his mother?" Chloe asked quietly. "Isn't she going to cause problems when she finds out about the trust?"
Vanessa chuckled, adjusting her veil. "Margaret is an eighty-year-old broken toy. By next week, she’ll be locked inside a memory care wing in upstate New York. She won't remember her own name, let alone her bank accounts. The doctors will keep her heavily sedated for her own 'safety.'"
Outside the suite door, disguised as a floral deliveryman, an undercover FBI agent adjusted his earpiece, recording every single syllable into the federal case docket.
Down the hallway, in the groom’s quarters, I stood calmly adjusting my black bowtie.
The door opened, and Rebecca Vance walked in. Behind her stood Dr. Christopher Evans and Special Agent David Miller, dressed in formal suits.
"Margaret is safe in the Berkshires," Dr. Evans said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Her vital signs are completely stabilized now that she’s off that toxic cocktail Vanessa was slipping into her tea. She sends you her love, Daniel. And she said... tell him to finish it."
"The agents are in position," Agent Miller reported, pulling a federal badge and zip-ties from his jacket pocket. "We have four teams inside the sanctuary, two at the rear exits, and county sheriff deputies blocking the street. Marcus Vance just arrived with his legal briefcase. He took a seat in the third row."
"Does he have the final execution tablet?" I asked.
"He does," Miller confirmed. "The moment you reach the altar, he expects to finalize the transfer."
May you like
I looked into the mirror, smoothing the lapels of my tuxedo.
"Let's not keep the bride waiting," I said.
