Chapter 6 - The Uninvited Witness
The morning of the wedding was chaos. The bridal suite was filled with the scent of hairspray, expensive champagne, and frantic energy. I sat in a chair, letting the stylist do my hair, keeping my phone firmly in my grip.
Owen had sent the final signal: The file is uploaded. The master override is live. There is no turning back.
At 2:00 PM, I put on my matron of honor dress—a beautiful, flowing emerald green gown that accommodated my baby bump. I walked down the hall to Claire’s private dressing room to help her with her veil.
When I turned the corner, the door was slightly ajar.
History was repeating itself.
Through the crack in the door, I saw Damon. He had his hands on Claire’s waist, pressing her against the vanity table. Her wedding dress was hooked on a hanger nearby; she was in her silk bridal robe.
"We have to be careful," Claire whispered, her voice breathless. "Owen is hyper-focused today. And Elena has been staring at me strangely."
"Elena doesn't know anything," Damon scoffed, burying his face in her neck. "She’s completely clueless. She’s too busy thinking about nursery rhymes and crib blankets. Tonight, while Owen is drunk at the hotel bar, meet me in the east wing stairwell."
"I love you," she murmured.
"I love you too," Damon replied.
I stood in the hallway, completely unmoved. The words didn't hurt anymore. The betrayal had lost its venom because I had already processed the grief. Now, there was only execution.
I took out my phone, switched it to video mode, and recorded a seamless fifteen-second clip through the crack of the door. I watched Damon kiss her deeply, then pull away to adjust his tuxedo jacket.
I backed away silently down the carpeted hall, hit save, and sent the file directly to Owen’s master server folder. A late addition to the program, I captioned it.
The ceremony itself was a blur of beautiful, cruel irony. The church was packed with three hundred people. The light filtered through the stained glass, casting angelic hues over Claire as she walked down the aisle toward Owen. Owen stood at the altar, his face a mask of solemn dignity. Damon stood right behind him, holding the rings.
When the priest asked if anyone objected to the holy union, a heavy silence hung over the room. I looked at Owen. He looked at me. We held our breath. No one spoke.
Not here, we had agreed. A church wedding can be canceled quietly. A reception ballroom cannot.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest declared.
May you like
The crowd cheered. Damon clapped loudly, slapping Owen on the back. Claire beamed, throwing her arms around her new husband. They walked back down the aisle as Mr. and Mrs. Owen Vance.
They thought they had won. They thought they had successfully pulled off the ultimate deception, locking down their safe, stable partners while securing their secret, thrilling playground. They had no idea they were walking directly into an execution chamber.
