Chapter 12 - The White Dress
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The grand ballroom had been transformed into a breathtaking cathedral of white silk, cascading orchids, and glowing candlelight. Two hundred guests sat in gilded chairs, the air thick with expensive perfume and the low murmur of anticipation.
Dante stood at the altar, his face a mask of serene composure. Silvio stood beside him as his best man, his hands folded neatly in front of him, hovering dangerously close to the weapon concealed at his waist.
The string quartet began to play a hauntingly beautiful, slow march.
The heavy double doors at the back of the ballroom swung open.
Victoria stepped into the aisle. She was a vision of absolute, horrifying perfection. Her dress was a masterpiece of heavy ivory silk and French lace, trailing ten feet behind her. A delicate veil covered her face, hiding the cold, calculating eyes of a trained killer.
She walked slowly down the aisle, every eye in the room pinned on her. Ivan Sokolov sat in the second row, watching her with a smug, victorious sneer. He thought he was looking at his future Queen.
Dante watched her approach, feeling absolutely nothing but a cold, clinical detachment. He offered his hand as she reached the altar. She took it, her fingers delicate and trembling with manufactured emotion.
The priest began the ceremony. He spoke of love, trust, and unbreakable vows. Every word felt like a razor blade sliding across the tension in the room.
"Do you, Dante, take Victoria to be your lawfully wedded wife?" the priest asked, his voice echoing in the quiet room.
Dante looked deep into Victoria's eyes through the thin white veil. He saw the anticipation burning in her pupils. She was mere moments away from gaining legal access to his biometric vault.
"I do," Dante lied with absolute, chilling conviction.
"Do you, Victoria, take Dante to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"I do," she whispered, a tear of fake joy slipping down her flawless cheek.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
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Dante lifted the veil. He leaned in and kissed her, feeling the cold, dead reality of her lips against his. The crowd erupted into applause. The trap was officially, irreversibly set. The digital marriage certificate was filed.
The countdown had begun.
