Chapter 4 - Crashing the AltarThe inner courtyard of the Hawthorne Estate was breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers hung from wooden pergolas, illuminating hundreds of guests in tuxedos and designer gowns. A classical string quartet played softly in the background as the officiant spoke at the alter under an arch of orchids.
Grant stood at the front in a tailored Italian tuxedo, looking every bit the confident, charismatic tycoon he had always wanted to be. Beside him stood Victoria Hawthorne, wearing a glittering, hand-beaded gown that sparkled under the soft lights.
“…If anyone here knows of any reason why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony,” the officiant announced, his voice echoing over the silent crowd, “let them speak now, or forever hold their peace.”
The silence that followed was broken by the sharp, rhythmic sound of my heels against the marble courtyard tiles.
I stepped out from behind the archway into the center aisle.
“I have a reason,” I said loudly, my voice calm, clear, and resonant.
Every single guest turned around. Whispers swept through the crowd like wildfire. Victoria froze, her veil fluttering in the evening breeze. Grant chuckled nervously, turning toward the aisle with a contemptuous smirk—until his eyes landed on my face.
All color drained from his skin. His jaw dropped, his hands beginning to shake violently against his sides.
“C-Clara?” he stammered, stepping back against the altar platform. “You’re… you’re dead.”
“Disappointed?” I asked, stepping closer. “Six weeks ago, you left your wife and your nine-day-old daughter to die on the side of the road in Death Valley. You locked the doors, drove away with our water, and told us to go die.”
A collective gasp ripped through the audience. Victoria turned her gaze from me to Grant, her expression shifting from confusion to horror.
“Grant?” Victoria whispered, her hands shaking as she pulled away from him. “What is she talking about? Who is this?”
Grant gasped for breath, his face turning bright red as panic overtook him. “She’s crazy! She’s an unstable ex-girlfriend! Security! Get this lunatic out of here immediately!”
Two heavy security guards stepped forward, but before they could lay a finger on me, I raised the sealed envelope high above my head.
May you like
“Touch me, and the California Attorney General gets this document twenty minutes earlier than scheduled,” I declared firmly.
I looked Grant dead in the eye and smiled coldly. “I came to return what you left in the desert—and to reclaim every single thing you stole.”
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