The St. Jude's Cathedral was packed with the elite of North City. Flowers that cost more than a year of Seraphina's tuition lined the aisles, and the air was thick with the scent of lilies—the very scent that now felt like a brand on Seraphina's skin.
Behind the heavy oak doors of the bride's dressing room, Seraphina stood before a full-length mirror. Her face was pale, hidden behind a thick silk veil, but her eyes were no longer the eyes of a timid lamb.
"Are you ready, you slow girl?" Lydia, her stepmother, burst in without knocking. "The guests are waiting. Don't you dare ruin this. If Jason doesn't sign that marriage certificate, I'm calling the hospital and cutting off your grandmother's life support before the reception is over."
Seraphina didn't flinch. She didn't even turn around. "I'll be there, Lydia. Don't worry. This wedding will be... unforgettable."
Lydia narrowed her eyes, sensing a change in the girl's tone, but the greed in her heart blinded her. "Good. Move it."
The wedding march began to play.
Jason Miller stood at the altar, looking every bit the handsome, successful groom. He adjusted his tie, leaning over to whisper to his best man—who happened to be his secret business partner. "Once the old man hands over the shares, we liquidate the Lin assets and head to the Caymans. Tiffany is already waiting for me at the airport hotel for the 'real' honeymoon."
The doors opened.
Seraphina walked down the aisle alone. Her father had refused to walk her, claiming he was "too busy" talking to investors in the front row. Every step she took felt like a heartbeat. Thump. Thump. Thump.
She reached the altar. The priest began the ceremony, his voice droning on about "sanctity" and "eternal love."
"Jason Miller," the priest said, "do you take Seraphina Lin to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
"I do," Jason said, his voice ringing with a sincerity that made Seraphina want to vomit.
"And do you, Seraphina Lin—"
"I don't."
The silence that followed was so sudden it was deafening. The guests gasped. Silas Lin stood up, his face turning a dark, dangerous purple.
"Seraphina! What are you doing?" he hissed.
Seraphina reached up and slowly pulled back her veil. She looked Jason dead in the eye. "I don't marry men who spend their wedding eve in bed with my sister."
The scandal erupted instantly. Cameras—brought by the "social media influencers" Tiffany had invited to show off—began to flash.
"What are you talking about? You're insane!" Jason yelled, his face paling.
"Am I?" Seraphina pulled a small remote from her bouquet. She had spent the last hour before the ceremony hacking the church's digital display system—a skill her father had always called a 'useless hobby.'
The giant screens meant for hymn lyrics suddenly flickered to life. It was a grainy, high-angle video from the Grand Imperial Hotel hallway—showing Jason and Tiffany draped over each other, entering Suite 808. Then, the audio she had recorded on her phone played through the church speakers: "I'm only marrying that timid mouse for the shares... I love you, Tiffany."
Lydia screamed. Tiffany, sitting in the front row, turned white as a sheet. The guests were in an uproar.
"You bitch!" Jason lunged for Seraphina, his hand raised to strike her. "I'll kill you!"
Seraphina closed her eyes, bracing for the blow. She had used her only card. She was ready for the fallout.
But the blow never came.
Instead, a loud crack echoed through the cathedral. Jason screamed in agony as his wrist was caught mid-air and snapped backward.
A shadow fell over Seraphina—a large, cold, and suffocatingly powerful presence.
"I don't recall giving you permission to touch what belongs to me," a voice like grinding stones rumbled.
The crowd went dead silent. Even the paparazzi stopped breathing.
Standing at the altar, dressed in a black suit that looked like armor, was Alexander Thorne. He looked like a dark god who had descended into a den of thieves. He didn't look at the crowd; his icy blue eyes were locked onto Seraphina's shocked face.
"Mr. Thorne?" Silas Lin stammered, his voice trembling with fear. "This... this is a family matter. My daughter is just confused—"
"Your daughter," Alexander interrupted, his voice low and lethal, "is no longer your concern."
He turned to the priest, who was trembling so hard he nearly dropped the Bible.
"The groom is a fraud," Alexander announced, his gaze sweeping the room with absolute authority. "But the wedding will proceed. Only the names on the contract have changed."
He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a document, tossing it onto the altar. It was a marriage license, already stamped and legal.
"Alexander, what are you doing?" Seraphina whispered, her heart hammered against her ribs.
Alexander stepped closer, his hand coming up to cup her jaw. His thumb brushed over her lower lip, his touch burning with the memory of the night before. He leaned down, his breath ghosting over her ear.
"You left a 'Thank You' note on my pillow, Seraphina. But in my world, I don't accept notes. I accept payment in full."
He turned to the stunned audience. "As of this moment, Seraphina Lin is the future matriarch of the Thorne family. Anyone who has a problem with that can discuss it with my legal team... or my security."
He looked back at Seraphina, a dark, possessive smirk playing on his lips. "Now, little lamb. Shall we finish our vows?"