2025-08-04 00:01:53The penthouse lights dimmed as Kara moved to the panel, lowering them just enough to let the city skyline glow in full, harsh and brilliant behind the tall windows.
A click of the door. The photographer, Julian, stepped in, a short, wiry man with sleek black equipment bags slung across his chest, his eyes scanning the room with professional detachment. “Ms. Chen,” Julian greeted, dipping his head, already assembling the tripod with practiced speed. “We’ll keep this quick, promise.” “Make sure it’s perfect,” Sarah said, her voice low but sharp, a glass blade. “No bad angles.” “Of course.” Julian lifted his camera, adjusting the lens, angling toward the corner where the skyline’s lights slashed across the windows like neon veins. Sarah stepped into place, the silver gown catching the glow, sequins glinting like a thousand tiny mirrors. She raised her chin, letting the gown settle,
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202
Sarah sat in her penthouse office, staring at her cracked phone screen. She could still hear her own voice from the livestream replaying in her head, sharp and ugly. Her face had been everywhere, frozen mid-scream, turned into a joke. She slammed her palm on the desk, rattling the crystal vase of white roses. Kara stood by the door, not daring to breathe too loud. Sarah’s eyes snapped up, sharp as a knife. “Get the PR team,” Sarah hissed. “Now. We flood every feed with wedding shots, new deals, charity stories. *Anything* that makes me look untouchable.” Kara nodded, backing out like she might get bitten. Sarah turned to her laptop, pulling up her social feeds. The hashtags were still trending, but not the way she wanted. **#FraudSarah** **#ChenCollapse** **#LeftoversForBrent** She bit her lip until she tasted blood. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was the queen—untouchable,
201
Brent sat in the cold, quiet underground mansion, screens lighting up his tired but sharp eyes. His fingers tapped lightly on the metal table as the hum of servers filled the room. This was not a place of comfort, but a war room, and Brent was ready to begin the shadow war. Ling sat beside him, her laptop open, code flying across the screen as her black hair fell over her shoulder. She was the one who could freeze accounts, send legal letters, and track hidden funds without leaving a single fingerprint. Her calm made the room feel colder, her eyes never leaving the numbers shifting in green and red on her screen. Adam leaned back on a crate, rolling a toothpick between his teeth as he scrolled through influencers’ pages. He knew who was fake and who would sell out for a rumor that would boost their views. Every few minutes, he would look at Brent and nod once, letting him know the seeds were planted. Jam
Chapter 200
The reception hall bloomed with light, chandeliers raining gold across a sea of black tuxedos, sequin gowns, and diamond chokers that caught every camera flash. Waiters moved in synchronized lines, carrying silver trays stacked with crystal flutes of champagne, the fizz catching the glow as influencers angled for perfect shots. A string quartet played near the grand staircase, the notes rolling through the air, competing with the quiet hum of drones hovering for overhead reels, while screens near the bar displayed highlight loops of Sarah and Damien’s kiss at the altar. #ChenVossWedding #SarahChenQueen #DamienVoss The hashtags pulsed across the screens, a living heartbeat of adoration for the couple of the century. Sarah swept through the ballroom in her second gown, a deep emerald silk that shimmered like water under the lights, her hair falling in loose, styled waves
Chapter 199
Max Voss shifted from foot to foot near the front pew, his small hands gripping the satin ring pillow so hard the edges wrinkled under his fingers. His bow tie itched, and the weight of the cathedral’s hush pressed on his thin shoulders, making him wish he could disappear into the sea of candles and flowers. He looked at Sarah, his aunt in a shimmering gown, standing beside Damien as the priest adjusted his glasses, preparing to guide them through the vows. Max’s chest tightened. Sarah’s smile looked too big, too sharp, like the edges of the glass sculpture she had in her office that he was never allowed to touch. Lucy felt Max’s eyes dart to her. She caught his gaze, gave him a small nod, and mouthed, *You’re okay,* though her own jaw was tight. She was dressed in a simple pale blue dress, her hair pinned back, looking like the softer version of Sarah but with none of the coldness in her eyes.
Chapter 198
The cathedral’s spires reached into a cloudless blue sky, the marble stairs swept and shining under the sun. A black Rolls-Royce glided to a stop at the curb, its doors opening to reveal socialites in gowns and sharp suits, each stepping onto the red carpet laid over the cathedral steps with phones lifted, already streaming. “#ChenVossWedding is about to break the internet,” one influencer whispered into her mic, her teeth gleaming as she panned the camera over the towering floral arches, each bloom imported from Ecuador and layered in tight, perfect spirals. Security moved with discreet urgency, black suits and earpieces, scanning the clusters of reporters at the barricades, their cameras clicking in rapid-fire bursts. Inside, the cathedral glowed with stained glass that threw emerald and sapphire light onto polished pews. White orchids curled around every pillar, candles in crystal
Chapter 197
The penthouse lights dimmed as Kara moved to the panel, lowering them just enough to let the city skyline glow in full, harsh and brilliant behind the tall windows. A click of the door. The photographer, Julian, stepped in, a short, wiry man with sleek black equipment bags slung across his chest, his eyes scanning the room with professional detachment. “Ms. Chen,” Julian greeted, dipping his head, already assembling the tripod with practiced speed. “We’ll keep this quick, promise.” “Make sure it’s perfect,” Sarah said, her voice low but sharp, a glass blade. “No bad angles.” “Of course.” Julian lifted his camera, adjusting the lens, angling toward the corner where the skyline’s lights slashed across the windows like neon veins. Sarah stepped into place, the silver gown catching the glow, sequins glinting like a thousand tiny mirrors. She raised her chin, letting the gown settle,
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