Chapter 2 - The Forbidden Seat
The stunned silence shattered the second Ethan took a violent step forward down the altar steps.
"Stop right there, Ethan," I said, my tone casual, dripping with a terrifying kind of calm that made him freeze in his tracks. "We wouldn't want to ruin the senator's big day, would we?"
Senator Hastings stepped forward, his face flushed with political fury. "What is the meaning of this spectacle? Security! Remove these—these uninvited disruptors immediately!"
Before the private security guards in their tailored black suits could even take a step toward us, a sharp, authoritative voice cut through the air.
"Touch them, and you'll spend tomorrow liquidating your pension funds to pay my legal fees."
Julian Vance, senior partner at Vance & Sterling and the most cutthroat corporate litigator in the country, stepped out of the second SUV. He adjusted his tie, flashing a cold, predatory smile at the senator. Behind him, two paralegals carried heavy leather briefcases.
"I represent Ms. Katherine Vance," Julian announced loudly, intentionally using my maiden name, which I had reclaimed the day I walked out of this prison. "And more importantly, I represent the primary legal heirs to thirty percent of the Montgomery Holdings trust, established by the late patriarch Arthur Montgomery. These boys aren't uninvited guests, Senator. They are the owners of the front row."
Gasps erupted. The Montgomery family fortune wasn’t just old money; it was a tangled web of trusts, land grants, and corporate shares. And according to Arthur Montgomery’s ironclad will, the primary voting shares of the empire bypassed Ethan entirely and went directly to the firstborn legitimate male heirs.
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Which meant my five-year-old triplets now legally owned a controlling stake in the very estate we were standing on.
"Table 27," I said softly, locking eyes with Eleanor as she finally made her way down the spiral staircase from the balcony, her face a mask of furious desperation. "You reserved Table 27 for me right by the kitchen doors, Eleanor. But I think my sons prefer a better view. Let's move them to the head table."
