Chapter 6 - The Altar of DeceptionDown on the ceremony lawn, the seating area was packed. One hundred and seventy guests—consisting of high-society elites, wealthy investors, politicians, and Meridian Harbor executives—chattered softly under the shade of massive oak trees draped in Spanish moss.
Nora stood near the sound booth behind the back row of chairs, her tablet clutched so tightly her fingers were numb. Her mind was a battlefield. Every instinct screamed at her to pack up her team, abandon the contract, and run. But professional pride—and a burning desire to look Walter Keller’s ghost in the eye—kept her anchored to the grass.
Tessa rushed up to her, breathless. "Nora, we have a major crisis. The groom's holding room is locked from the inside, and the bride's mother is screaming at the catering staff because the champagne isn't chilled to the exact temperature specified in paragraph four of the addendum."
"Where is Adrian?" Nora asked, her voice dangerously calm.
"Nobody knows. Groom's best man came out looking like he'd just seen a murder, and he won't say a word."
Before Nora could answer, heavy footsteps crunched on the gravel path behind the seating rows.
The crowd grew instantly quiet. Heads turned. Whispers rippled through the front rows like wind through wheat.
It wasn't Adrian.
It was Richard Vance, CEO of Meridian Harbor Engineering, stepping out from the side terrace with a grim expression on his face. He walked straight toward the altar, ignoring the seated guests, and locked eyes with Nora.
Nora’s blood ran cold. She recognized him instantly from old corporate brochures and news clippings—the man who had signed Adrian’s transfer papers eight years ago.
"Miss Vale," Vance said, his voice smooth, arrogant, and dripping with condescension as he stopped a few feet away from her. "I must say, when I saw Lantern and Lace on the vendor list, I didn't realize it was you. Small world, isn't it?"
Nora didn't flinch. She stepped forward, squaring her shoulders, her eyes locking onto the older man with the cold fury of a predator.
"Mr. Vance. I suppose congratulations are in order. You managed to orchestrate quite an impressive corporate merger today," Nora said, her voice carrying clearly across the quiet lawn.
Vance’s smile didn't reach his eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about, my dear. I'm simply here to officiate my business partner's wedding."
"You lied to us," Nora said, her voice rising, cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. "You and Walter Keller intercepted our lives eight years ago. You faked emails, blocked communications, and manufactured a break-up just to keep Adrian tied to your corporate pipeline and a bride of your choosing."
The guests in the front rows gasped. Several people stood up from their chairs. The string quartet stopped playing entirely.
Vance’s face hardened into a mask of corporate ice. "You're having a hysterical episode, Miss Vale. This is a private event. If you don't remove yourself from these grounds immediately, I will have security throw you out and ensure your company never works in the state of South Carolina again."
"Try it," a cold, sharp voice echoed from the terrace stairs.
Everyone turned.
Adrian stood at the top of the stone steps. He had removed his formal tuxedo jacket. His tie was loosened. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong, scarred forearms—the exact arms that had held a rickety wooden chair on a college campus eight years ago.
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"Adrian!" Vance barked, his face flushing red. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Your bride is upstairs in tears, and your guests are watching this lunatic make a scene!"
Adrian didn't look at Vance. He didn't look at the crowd of terrified elites. His eyes were fixed entirely on Nora, walking slowly down the stone steps toward the lawn.
