Chapter 7 - Chaos at the Altar
The pristine white floral arrangements adorning the altar were violently trampled into a mess of crushed roses and expensive orchids as the brawl exploded across the elevated dais. Julian ducked beneath a sweeping punch from the largest of Marcus’s operatives, spinning on his heel to deliver a brutal kick to the man’s solar plexus. The operative gasped for air, his eyes rolling back as he collapsed hard onto the marble floor.
"Clara! Run!" Julian roared over the sounds of breaking glass and shouting guests.
Clara clutched the infant tightly to her chest, her bare feet slipping slightly on the scattered rose petals as she bolted toward the heavy mahogany vestry door behind the floral arch. Evelyn watched in absolute horror as the little girl fled, realizing the final shreds of her high-society dreams were literally running out the back exit.
"Stop her!" Evelyn shrieked hysterically, lunging forward herself to grab Clara’s flying beige cardigan.
Before Evelyn’s manicured nails could sink into the fabric, Marcus lunged up from the floor, blood streaming from his split lip, and shoved Evelyn hard out of the way. She stumbled backward, crashing violently into a tiered wedding cake that collapsed beneath her weight, instantly covering her priceless lace gown in thick layers of white buttercream frosting and red velvet crumbs.
"Get those kids!" Marcus roared at his remaining two operatives, ignoring his own injuries as he scrambled back to his feet and drew a sleek, matte-black firearm from his holster.
Julian’s eyes widened with pure adrenaline. Without a moment's hesitation, he hurled a heavy brass candelabra directly at Marcus’s hand. The metallic projectile struck true, knocking the pistol spinning across the marble floor where it skidded beneath a row of empty pews.
Marcus cursed viciously, lunging blindly at Julian and tackling him hard against the stone baptismal font. The heavy stone structure cracked loudly under the impact, sending shockwaves up Julian’s spine, but he refused to loosen his grip. He wrapped his forearms around Marcus’s neck, applying a chokehold with ruthless efficiency until the enforcer’s eyes fluttered closed and he slumped unconscious against the base of the font.
The last remaining operative froze, looking down at his unconscious leader before slowly raising his hands in surrender as Julian turned his bruised, blood-streaked face toward him.
"Get out," Julian panted, his chest heaving as he wiped a smear of blood from his forehead.
The operative didn't need to be told twice; he grabbed his fallen comrade by the collar and dragged him backward toward the shattered glass doors, fleeing into the night.
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Julian didn't wait to catch his breath. He turned away from the wreckage of his wedding and sprinted desperately through the vestry door after Clara.
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