Chapter 5 - The March of the Damned
The string quartet began playing the traditional bridal march downstairs, the melancholic notes floating up through the air vents like a dirge. Julian stood frozen by the window, his reflection staring back at him from the dark glass—a man trapped in a gilded cage of his own making. Lily stood beside him, reapplying her crimson lipstick with terrifying precision, her hands barely shaking. Mia was huddled in the corner of the velvet sofa, clutching a stuffed bear and watching them with eyes far too old for her years.
"Time's up, groom," Marcus whispered, holding open the suite door that led directly to the private balcony overlooking the grand staircase. "Show time."
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Julian turned slowly, his eyes fixed on Lily. The depth of her deception was staggering, a bottomless pit of sociopathic ambition disguised behind angelic features and white lace. Yet, as he thought of Sarah hidden away somewhere in the shadows, and little Mia’s trembling voice, he realized
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