Chapter 9
Elias pulled a small, black digital recorder from the bottom of the briefcase. He held it up so the entire room could see the glowing red light on its screen.
“Isabella,” Elias said, his voice echoing in the dead silence of the ballroom. “I’m going to play a file. It’s an audio rip from the burner phone we recovered from your hired muscle. I want you to listen to it very carefully.”
“No!” Isabella shrieked, dropping the candelabra. It hit the marble floor with a deafening, metallic clang. “Don’t play it! Dad, make him stop! It’s illegal to record without consent!”
“You forfeit consent when you orchestrate a homicide,” Elias replied coldly. He pressed the play button, maximizing the volume.
A burst of static filled the room, followed by the heavy, breathing sounds of a phone call. Then, a man’s voice spoke, rough and rushed. “It’s done. Car went off the cliff. She didn’t make it out.”
A second of silence passed on the tape before a woman’s voice replied. The pitch, the cadence, the arrogant drawl—it was undeniably Isabella. “Are you absolutely certain? I am not paying the second half of your fee if she washes up in a hospital.”
“I wrapped the wire myself,” the man on the tape growled. “She’s fish food. Where’s my money?”
“It will be in the offshore account by midnight,” Isabella’s voice replied, chillingly calm. “Make sure she doesn’t surface. And make sure the wreckage burns.”
The recording clicked off, plunging the ballroom into a silence so absolute it felt like a vacuum. The guests stared at the Bride, recoiling in physical disgust. The beautiful white dress, the flawless makeup, the radiant emerald necklace—it all morphed into a grotesque costume of a sociopath.
Isabella stood frozen, her chest heaving, the micro-expressions on her face rapidly cycling through denial, rage, and finally, absolute terror. The undeniable truth of her own voice had stripped away her last defense.
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“You monster,” the Father whispered, backing away from her as if she were carrying a plague. “You absolute monster. You are no daughter of mine.”
Caroline did not smile, nor did she gloat. She simply stared at her sister, her battered face a monument to the violence Isabella had bought and paid for. “It’s over, Isabella. You lost.”
Chapter 10
“No!” Isabella screamed, a primal, ear-piercing sound that shattered the remaining tension in the room. “I will not let you take this from me! This is my wedding! This is my day!”
She spun around wildly, her eyes locking onto the heavy silver steak knife resting next to the Father’s uneaten filet mignon. Before anyone could react, Isabella lunged across the table, her manicured fingers wrapping around the serrated handle. She ripped it from the table, sending plates crashing to the floor, and spun back to face the crowd.
“Nobody moves!” she shrieked, pointing the blade wildly at the terrified guests, then at Elias, and finally at Caroline. “I am the heir! I am the CEO! I won’t go to prison in a dirty orange jumpsuit while you sit in my corner office!”
“Put the knife down, Isabella,” Elias said, stepping smoothly in front of Caroline, shielding her scarred body with his own. His hand reached beneath his dark grey suit jacket, resting on the grip of a concealed firearm. “You are making this exponentially worse.”
“It can’t get worse!” Isabella cried, tears of mascara staining her cheeks black. “I lost! But I won’t let her win! If I’m going down, she’s coming with me!”
She tightened her grip on the knife, her muscles tensing to charge. Elias drew his weapon, leveling the black barrel squarely at the center of her white wedding dress. The crowd screamed, scattering toward the walls, abandoning the head table completely. The Father fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands, weeping openly at the destruction of his family.
“Take one step,” Elias warned, his voice dead of all emotion. “Just one.”
Suddenly, the wail of police sirens pierced the night, echoing through the heavy oak doors, growing louder by the second. Red and blue lights began to flash wildly through the high, arched windows of the ballroom, painting the crystal chandeliers in chaotic colors.
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Isabella hesitated, her eyes darting toward the flashing lights. In that fraction of a second, the heavy oak doors burst open for a third time, and a shadow fell across the threshold.
Caroline peaked around Elias’s shoulder, her breath catching in her throat as she saw who had just walked in.
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