Chapter 2: The Aisle
The walk back down the aisle took less than a minute.
No one tried to stop me. A few guests stepped aside instinctively; others remained frozen with phones half-raised. The string quartet had gone silent. Somewhere near the back, a woman whispered my name as if testing whether the person who had just dropped a wedding dress on the altar was the same quiet fiancée they thought they knew.
My lawyer, Vivian Cho, kept pace beside me. The two federal investigators followed at a measured distance. Outside the sanctuary doors, the corridor was cooler and quieter. Vivian guided me into a side room that had been reserved in advance—no windows, one table, two chairs, a secure laptop already open.
“Site is locked down for the next hour,” she said. “Hotel security is cooperating. The service packet has been formally delivered. Adrian’s counsel will be scrambling.”
I sat and accepted the bottle of water she handed me. The bruises along my arms felt sharper now that the adrenaline of the aisle had thinned. I did not cover them.
“The final file?” I asked.
Vivian tapped the sealed folder on the table.
“Still unopened in the public sense. The investigators have the working copies. Once they finish the preliminary preservation order on Vale Meridian’s accounts, we release the summary to the regulatory agencies. After that, the press will not need our help.”
I nodded.
Eleven months of quiet collection had reduced itself to a sequence of timed disclosures. The altar had been the first. The rest would follow in order.
From the corridor came the muffled sound of raised voices—Celeste’s sharp, controlled fury, Adrian’s lower attempts to reassert command. Neither tone carried the confidence it had held an hour earlier.
Vivian checked her phone.
“They’re demanding to speak with you.”
“They can speak with you,” I said. “I’m done being spoken to.”
May you like
She almost smiled.
“Understood.”
