Chapter 7 - The CollapseJulian Vance realized the game was entirely up.
Without a word, he turned sharply on his heel and bolted down the side aisle toward the vestry exit, desperate to reach his car and flee the jurisdiction before federal investigators could be notified. But he didn't make it three steps.
Two men in sharp dark suits—agents from the Illinois Attorney General’s financial crimes division—stepped out from the rear doors, blocking his path. They didn't draw weapons, but their badges flashed cold and hard in the dim light.
“Julian Vance?” the lead investigator asked, his voice calm and authoritative. “You’re coming with us. Don't make this difficult.”
As Julian was placed in handcuffs right beside the altar, the entire ballroom erupted into chaos. Flashbulbs from hidden paparazzi—tipped off by my legal team hours earlier—suddenly began firing from the back galleries, capturing every agonizing second of the groom's destruction.
Ryan stood paralyzed, staring at the handcuffs on his business partner, then down at Lauren, who was now sliding down the front of the altar in a heap of white silk and tears, her grand wedding dream utterly destroyed.
“Mia...” Ryan whispered, taking a desperate, stumbling step toward me, his hands outstretched in a pathetic plea. “Mia, please... we can fix this. We have a child. We’re a family. You, me, and our baby—”
I stepped back, avoiding his touch as if he carried a plague.
“Don't ever say that word, Ryan,” I said, my voice dropping to a low, lethal whisper. “You wanted a family? You wanted a real woman? You got exactly what you deserved.”
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I turned around, facing the sea of stunned wedding guests who were now frantically whispering and pulling out their phones to record the historic downfall of Vance & Sterling.
“The reception is canceled,” I announced to the room.
