Chapter 11
The grand staircase stretched out before them like a descending path into an alternate reality. Down below, the three hundred wedding guests were no longer murmuring in polite confusion; they were standing in dense, restless clusters, whispering frantically as private security guards and federal agents milled through the floral arrangements.
Elena paused on the top landing, her fingers still intertwined with Julian’s. The heavy silk of her wedding gown trailed behind her, sweeping over the polished wood step where Mark’s brass candlestick still lay abandoned.
"They're all looking at us," Elena murmured, her voice tight with residual tension. "What are we even supposed to tell them? Sorry, folks, the groom was a corporate criminal and an imposter, but his identical twin brother is standing right here?"
Julian chuckled softly, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "Tell them the truth, or tell them the wedding is postponed indefinitely. Honestly, Elena, after everything that has transpired today, public opinion should be the least of our concerns."
He took a step downward, pulling her gently along with him. But as Elena’s foot left the landing, a sudden, blinding flash of insight hit her. She yanked her hand out of Julian's grasp, pulling him backward into the protective shelter of the ornate oak banister just a fraction of a second too late.
CRACK.
The deafening sound of a high-caliber sniper rifle shattered the glass dome of the foyer ceiling. A shower of glittering crystal and plaster rained down over the terrified wedding guests below, sending hundreds of people screaming in blind panic as they dove beneath banquet tables.
Julian tackled Elena to the floor, shielding her body with his own as a second bullet embedded itself deep into the hardwood banister inches from their heads, sending a cloud of splintered wood into the air.
"Stay down!" Julian yelled over the chaos, drawing his pistol once again and scanning the glass skylight above the central atrium.
Elena pressed her face against the cold floor, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. The sniper wasn't aiming at Mark—Mark was already in federal custody. The sniper was aiming directly at Julian. Or perhaps... at both of them.
"Where is the shot coming from?" Elena shouted, her voice shaking uncontrollably as police sirens began to wail outside the estate gates.
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"The clock tower," Julian muttered, his eyes dark and resolute as he checked the magazine of his weapon. "Mark didn't just buy a corrupt police precinct. He hired a private mercenary unit as a final redundancy."
Before Elena could process the terrifying scale of the danger they were still trapped in, a heavy boot stepped onto the landing behind them, accompanied by the cold click of a shotgun being loaded.
