Chapter 7: Gatecrashing the Fairytale
Chapter 7: Gatecrashing the Fairytale
The historic cathedral was a fortress of white roses, hanging crystal chandeliers, and flashing paparazzi cameras trying to catch a glimpse of the elite through the gates. Security was incredibly tight, managing a guest list packed with local politicians, tech moguls, and high-society gossips.
When I approached the massive carved oak doors, two burly, unsmiling guards immediately stepped in my path, crossing their arms.
“Name, ma'am? This is a private, ticketed event,” the first guard grunted, sizing me up.
Leo stepped forward smoothly, flashing a black titanium card engraved with a crest. “Sinclair Holdings. We own the building, the land it sits on, and the company that signs your paychecks. Step aside before you’re looking for work.”
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The guards hesitated, glancing nervously at their earpieces, but Leo’s tactical men smoothly wedged between them, using their shoulders to clear a physical path. I pushed the heavy oak doors open with both hands just as the massive, booming pipe organ began to play the traditional bridal chorus.
The timing was impeccable. Brooke was exactly halfway down the long aisle, draped in a three-hundred-thousand-dollar custom silk gown that clung deliberately to her swelling belly. Dominic stood at the altar, looking like a triumphant king awaiting his crown, with Olivia dabbing fake, theatrical tears from her eyes in the front row.
