Chapter 7 7

They walked down the aisle.

Together.

It was a violation of every tradition.

The bride was supposed to be walked by her father.

Or she was supposed to walk alone.

She wasn't supposed to walk with a man who was actively suing the groom's company.

A figure stepped out from the front pew.

Daniela.

She was wearing a dress that was technically a bridesmaid's dress.

But it was white.

And it was lace.

And it had a train.

It was a wedding dress in everything but name.

She blocked their path.

Her eyes were wide, brimming with fake tears.

"Celeste!" she cried out, her voice pitching perfectly to carry to the back of the church.

She reached out, trying to hug Celeste.

"Where have you been? We were so worried! Bryce has been frantic!"

Celeste sidestepped.

Daniela hugged empty air.

She stumbled slightly, her heels catching on the carpet.

She recovered quickly, leaning in close to Celeste.

"Did you enjoy your night, slut?" she hissed, her voice low enough that only they could hear. "Did you sleep it off?"

Celeste smiled.

It was a sharp, jagged smile.

"I wasn't sleeping, Dani," she said loudly. "I was taking out the trash."

Daniela blinked.

She looked at Basile.

She licked her lips, her gaze raking over him.

Even now, she couldn't help herself.

"And who is this?" she asked, putting a hand on her hip.

Basile looked at her.

He looked at the white dress.

He looked at the desperate hunger in her eyes.

"So this is the illegitimate one," he said.

He didn't whisper.

His deep voice echoed off the vaulted ceiling.

A collective gasp went through the church.

Daniela froze.

Her face went white, then splotchy red.

Her illegitimacy was the open secret of the Franco family.

The one thing no one ever, ever mentioned out loud.

The air crackled. The sound of a dozen camera shutters firing from the back of the church was like a volley of gunshots. Reporters who had snuck in were capturing Daniela's mortification in high-definition, their flashes reflecting in the tears welling in her eyes. The guests began to murmur, their whispers rising like a tide.

"Excuse me?" Daniela squeaked.

"Move," Basile said.

He didn't touch her.

He just walked forward.

Daniela scrambled out of the way to avoid being trampled.

She looked like a child playing dress-up next to him.

They reached the altar.

Bryce stepped forward.

He looked nervous.

He looked at Basile, then at Celeste.

"Celeste," he said, holding out his hands. "Baby. You're late. Let's... let's just get this started."

He tried to take her hand.

Basile stepped between them.

He stood like a wall of black wool and muscle.

Bryce shrank back.

The priest cleared his throat nervously.

"If everyone is seated..." the priest began.

Celeste walked past Basile.

She walked past Bryce.

She walked up the steps to the lectern where the readings were supposed to be done.

She grabbed the microphone.

It gave a high-pitched feedback whine.

Everyone covered their ears.

Celeste looked out at the sea of faces.

Friends.

Business partners.

People who had laughed at her behind her back for years.

"There will be no wedding today," she said.

Her voice was steady.

"But don't worry. I didn't come empty-handed."

She looked up at the choir loft.

She nodded.