Chapter 6
The heavy velvet drapes of the alcove billowed silently as Elena was yanked backward into the suffocating darkness. The gloved hand clamped tightly over her mouth, suffocating her scream before it could breach her lips. Panic surged through her veins like liquid fire. She kicked out blindly with the heavy heels of her satin wedding shoes, her white gown rustling furiously against the ornate wainscoting.
"Quiet, Elena. Breathe," a low, familiar voice hissed right beside her ear.
The hand fell away from her face, and Elena spun around, gasping for air as her chest heaved wildly under the satin bodice. Standing before her in the dim recess of the hallway was Julian. He didn't look like a fugitive who had just leapt through a second-story window; his charcoal suit was immaculate, and his hazel eyes gleamed with an unsettling, calm intensity.
"You?" Elena whispered fiercely, her voice trembling with a potent mix of fear and rage. She raised a hand, ready to strike his cheek. "You dragged me into this madness! Your brother is being arrested right now, and you’re lurking in the corridors like a ghost waiting to finish a sick game!"
Julian caught her wrist gently before her palm could connect, his grip firm but entirely devoid of malice. "Mark is no brother of mine, and he is certainly not getting arrested for the worst of his crimes," Julian said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. He glanced toward the grand staircase where the muffled murmur of three hundred anxious wedding guests drifted up from below. "The police think they have him cornered, but Mark has a second passport, offshore accounts, and a private jet fueled on the tarmac. The moment the officers take their eyes off him, he will walk free."
"Then let the police handle it!" Elena retorted, trying to yank her arm away from his grasp. "I am done being a pawn in whatever blood feud you and Mark have been waging over our father's estate."
"Your father’s estate is the least of our worries, Elena," Julian replied, pulling a small, encrypted flash drive from his pocket and holding it up between them. "Mark didn't just embezzle money. He killed our father to get to it. And the signature on your marriage license? It wasn't Mark's."
Elena froze, the blood draining completely from her face. "What are you talking about?"
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"Look down the hall," Julian whispered, his gaze shifting past her shoulder.
Elena slowly turned her head, peering around the edge of the alcove. Down the long, sunlit corridor, a figure in a sharp police uniform was walking toward the bridal suite, but something about the way he walked was entirely wrong.
