Chapter 4 - The Day of Reckoning
The Cathedral of St. Jude was packed to capacity. The air was thick with the scent of white lilies—Adrian’s choice. I always hated lilies; they smelled like decay.
From the chapel’s hidden security and AV control room on the second floor, I watched the performance through a wall of monitors. I felt nothing but ice in my veins.
The church was filled with politicians, celebrities, and investors. They whispered in hushed, sympathetic tones. They were all there to pay respects not to me, but to the powerful, tragic Adrian Vale.
My father stood beside me in the dim room, dressed in a sharp navy suit, his posture rigid and commanding. He held a small remote control in his hand, linked directly to the church’s sophisticated sound system.
On the main monitor, the heavy oak doors of the sanctuary closed. The service was beginning.
The camera zoomed in on Adrian. He knelt before the massive, polished mahogany coffin at the altar. It was a beautiful, expensive box. Empty, save for some sandbags the corrupt coroner had approved.
Adrian fell forward, his hands gripping the wood.
“Why did you leave me?” Adrian cried out, his voice echoing through the vaulted ceilings.
He collapsed onto the altar steps. Camera shutters clicked frantically from the press gallery in the back. Every perfect tear was captured. Every agonizing sob was broadcasted to the local news stations.
My husband wept over my coffin as if his theatrical grief could wash the blood from his hands.
Celeste rushed forward from the front pew, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. The picture of loyalty.
The priest stepped up to the microphone, speaking softly about loss, tragedy, and the fragility of the human mind. He spoke of a woman he had never met, reading from a script Adrian had written.
“It is time,” my father said quietly.
He turned to me. I took a deep breath, smoothing the lapels of my black suit. The pain in my ribs flared, a sharp reminder of the cliff, the cold, and the betrayal. But the pain only fueled my resolve.
I looked at the monitor one last time. Adrian was standing up, preparing to deliver the eulogy. He adjusted his microphone.
May you like
“I am ready,” I said.
We left the security room and descended the narrow, stone spiral staircase that led to the heavy side doors of the sanctuary.
