Chapter 8 - The Wedding of the Century
The Grand Regency Ballroom was a sea of crystal chandeliers, white roses, and black-tie elegance. Over five hundred elite guests—senators, billionaires, media moguls—filled the pristine rows of gold-leaf chairs. Cameras flashed continuously as reporters broadcasted live updates of the "Merger Wedding of the Century."
I stood at the front of the altar wearing a custom midnight-blue tuxedo. My expression was stoic, a perfect mask of aristocratic calm. Beside me stood my best man, who had no idea that the flash drive in my pocket contained enough criminal evidence to dismantle three major corporations.
In the front row sat Richard Whitmore, wearing an arrogant, triumphant smirk. He kept adjusting his gold cufflinks, already savoring the moment his family took control of Cole International.
The organ music began to play the traditional wedding march.
The heavy mahogany doors at the back of the ballroom swung open.
Tessa Whitmore stepped into the light. She looked radiant in an intricate lace dress valued at over two hundred thousand dollars. Her veil trailed ten feet behind her, and her face was illuminated by a radiant, victorious smile.
May you like
She walked down the aisle slowly, holding her breath, her eyes locked onto mine. She saw power. She saw endless wealth. She saw her ultimate victory.
She reached the altar, stepping up to stand opposite me. The minister stepped forward, opening his bible.
