Chapter 1 - The First Crack “Stephanie, apologize to my mother right now.”
Julian’s voice cut through the hollow, vaulted ceiling of the cathedral like a shard of broken glass. His stern, cold expression did not waver as he stared down at his twenty-five-year-old bride. The white V-neck lace wedding dress Stephanie wore seemed to tighten around her throat, choking her with sudden, incandescent fury.
“Apologize to her?” Stephanie’s voice rose, vibrating with aristocratic disgust. Her light brown hair, meticulously styled in an updo, trembled as she shook her head. “Julian, are you out of your mind? She smells like a barnyard! She reeks of manure! Keep that peasant away from me before she ruins twenty thousand dollars worth of imported French lace.”
A collective gasp rippled through the front pews. The seventy-year-old woman in the blue patterned dress—Martha, Julian’s mother—lowered her weathered, trembling hands. Tears welled in her kind, tired eyes, but she offered a heartbreaking, forgiving smile, refusing to meet her son's burning gaze.
“You call her a peasant,” Julian said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, icy register. A corner of an old, yellowed envelope peeked ominously from his tuxedo breast pocket. “You have no idea who you are talking to.”
“I know exactly who she is,” Stephanie snapped, tossing her pearl necklace over her shoulder with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “She’s an old farmhand you dragged out of the sticks because you were too embarrassed to marry me without some token family present. Well, I won't have it. Get her out of my sight!”
Julian stared at her for a long, agonizing moment. The silence in the church grew suffocating. He slowly raised his left hand, his fingers curling around the platinum band resting securely on his ring finger.
“Take the ring off,” Julian said coldly, his eyes locking onto hers with absolute finality. “This wedding is over.”
Stephanie froze, her jaw slackening in pure disbelief. “You are joking. We have five hundred guests waiting at the reception. My father paid for the caterers!”
May you like
“Your father paid with stolen money,” Julian whispered, pulling the letter from his pocket.
---
