CHAPTER 7 – The Society of Black Veils
For seventy-two hours after the wedding, nobody slept.
Not Sophia.
Not Detective Claire Donovan.
Not the FBI agents who had quietly taken control of the investigation.
The underground chamber beneath the hotel had become one of the largest crime scenes in the state's history.
Reporters crowded every entrance.
Television helicopters hovered overhead.
But the public knew only a fraction of the truth.
Because the most terrifying discovery had not been the twelve wedding dresses.
It had been the symbol.
Every evidence folder.
Every insurance policy.
Every engagement photograph.
Every hidden room.
Carried the same black wax seal.
A veil covering a woman's face.
Beneath it were three Latin words.
Donec Mors Vincat.
"Until Death Wins."
Claire stared at the symbol.
"I've seen this before."
She opened a twenty-year-old cold-case file.
The exact same seal had appeared after the disappearance of a bride in New York.
Then another in Boston.
Another in Seattle.
Another in Dallas.
Different killers.
Different victims.
The same symbol.
The FBI finally admitted the truth.
For nearly thirty years...
Dozens of wealthy brides had vanished across the country.
Every investigation ended the same way.
No body.
No suspect.
No witnesses.
Only the black seal.
Sophia whispered,
"So Ethan wasn't hunting women..."
Claire slowly nodded.
"He was recruited."
One agent placed a thick binder on the table.
Inside were photographs of successful businessmen...
Judges...
Doctors...
Charity founders...
Even politicians.
Each had once belonged to the same exclusive organization.
Its unofficial nickname among investigators was chilling.
The Society of Black Veils.
No one knew who led it.
No one had ever identified its founder.
No one had ever survived long enough to testify.
Until now.
Olivia Hayes finally woke up.
Weak.
Frightened.
Barely able to speak.
Claire rushed into the hospital room.
"Olivia... do you know who ordered Ethan?"
Olivia's lips trembled.
She shook her head.
"No..."
"It wasn't Ethan."
She closed her eyes.
"There was always an older man."
"A silver cane."
"White gloves."
"He never said his name."
Sophia froze.
The same figure from Ethan's video.
Olivia reached into her hospital blanket with trembling fingers.
"I hid something..."
She handed Claire a tiny memory card.
"I stole it the night I escaped my room."
Claire immediately inserted it into a secure computer.
One video appeared.
Timestamp:
Eight years ago.
The footage showed Ethan kneeling before the elderly man with the silver cane.
The old man smiled calmly.
Then said words that chilled every investigator.
"A groom is replaceable."
"A bride is disposable."
"But the bloodline..."
"...must never be exposed."
The screen suddenly glitched.
Then another face briefly appeared behind the old man.
Sophia gasped.
"No..."
It couldn't be.
May you like
The man standing beside the mysterious leader...
Was her own father.
