Chapter 1 - The Altar of Glass
The silence inside Saint Jude’s Cathedral was thick, suffocating, and heavy with venom.
Three hundred guests sat frozen in the arched, velvet-lined pews. High above, sunlight filtered through stained-glass apostles, casting bloody crimson and sapphire light across the altar where I stood in my silk gown.
Lucian Moretti’s hand remained extended toward me.
His fingers were long, steady, and unyielding. On his pinky ring, a heavy platinum crest carved with the Moretti coat of arms caught the dim candlelight. He stood towering over Adrian, dressed in a bespoke charcoal gray three-piece suit that cost more than Adrian’s entire wedding budget. His shadow swallowed my groom whole.
Adrian Vale took an involuntary step back. The calm, polished arrogance that had defined his face seconds ago began to fracture around his eyes. His breathing grew shallow, his chest rising and falling against his black silk bow tie.
“Lucian…” Adrian stammered, his voice dropping into a desperate, panicked register. “This is a private family matter. You have no business stepping up to this altar.”
Lucian didn't look at Adrian. His dark, obsidian eyes remained fixed on mine.
“A private matter?” Lucian’s voice echoed through the high stone vaults of the cathedral—deep, smooth, and resonant, like marble striking velvet. “When a man publicly publicly breaches a contract made before God and three hundred witnesses, it ceases to be private, Vale. It becomes an open invitation.”
Behind Adrian, his mother, Camille, gasped loudly. She stepped forward, her expensive diamonds rattling against her collarbone as her hand clutched her pearl necklace. “Mr. Moretti! You cannot mean this! This girl is a nobody! Her father left her destitute! She has nothing to offer a man of your status!”
Lucian turned his head slightly, his profile sharp enough to cut iron.
“Madam Vale,” Lucian said softly, though every person in the front five rows felt the temperature in the church plummet. “If you speak to my future wife in that tone again, I will have my men evict your entire family from this sanctuary before the organist can hit another key.”
In the second row, Vanessa’s smug smile vanished. Her hand slid off her stomach, her painted red lips parting in shock as she stared at the man standing beside me.
I looked down at Lucian’s hand.
Three minutes ago, I was supposed to be a crushed, ruined bride—a woman stripped of her father’s legacy, her company, her dignity, and her home. Adrian and his mother had orchestrated this entire public humiliation to break my spirit, ensuring I would hide in a corner and never dare speak a word about the money laundering I had uncovered in the Vale Foundation.
They thought I was weak because I loved him.
They thought silence was my natural state.
I raised my chin, my fingers tightening around the white roses until the stems snapped beneath my grip. I let the crushed bouquet fall from my hand, the white petals scattering across the red carpet at Adrian’s polished shoes.
I placed my hand into Lucian Moretti’s palm.
His grip was warm, solid, and absolute.
“Take me out of here, Lucian,” I whispered, looking straight into Adrian’s pale, horrified eyes.
May you like
Lucian’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. He pulled me gently to his side, his arm sliding around my waist with total possessiveness.
“With pleasure, my sweet,” Lucian murmured. He turned toward the shock-silent crowd, his voice carrying clearly to the very back doors. “The wedding reception will proceed as planned at the Moretti Plaza. All guests are invited. Except the Vales.”
