The seventy-two hours following the RSVP update were quiet. Something was brewing in the heavy silence,a brutal restructuring that aimed to alter everything. While the city buzzed with the superficial excitement of the upcoming wedding, I spent my time in the heart of the Van Alen tower. Davis proved his worth by not just executing the six instructions I had given him, but weaponizing them.By the second day, the legal landscape of the wedding had been absolutely gutted.The church where Elara dreamt of walking down the aisle? Now owned by a Van Alen property shell. The reception venue’s primary creditor had been bought out, effectively turning the hall into our personal playground. As for the service providers, Julian had been blindsided by a wave of contract cancellations. His florist, caterer, and photographer had all found their schedules "suddenly compromised" by exclusive contracts with a shadow firm that traced back to my desk. They wouldn’t just be late—they wouldn’t show u

The night before the wedding stretched out before us like a vast, unmapped tundra. Every light in the penthouse was dimmed, yet the air felt thick, charged with a static electricity that made the fine hairs on my arms stand up. Helen and I had been working for eighteen hours straight, mapping every conceivable exit from a trap that hadn't even been fully sprung yet. I saw the exhaustion in her eyes, but the determination on her face told me I wouldn’t be able to convince her to take a break.I felt the weight of it too. My fingers were sore. My back hurt and cracked any time I angled my body slightly. We ran solely on coffee and the sole awareness of the danger threatening us."Sloane’s call was to his old law firm," Helen murmured with relief, her voice weary but sharp as she tapped at her tablet. "He was checking if they’d take his case again. He’s not playing Julian, and he’s not playing us. He’s looking for a way out of the life.""A man looking for a way out is either dangerous