My own death certificate looked larger projected above an altar.
Maybe everything does.
Name: Massimo Alessandro Moretti.
Birth date correct.
Address correct.
Emergency contact correct.
Cause of death blank.
Date blank.
Prepared in advance.
A funeral authorization followed.
Then a document giving Vivian limited control over several holding companies in the event of my “unexpected incapacitation.”
Three hundred guests stared upward.
Nobody whispered now.
Vivian turned toward Damian.
That was the first time she made the mistake of looking at him for help.
Everyone saw it.
Damian recovered faster.
“This is ridiculous.”
His voice carried through the cathedral.
I looked at him.
“Which part?”
“You’re turning a wedding into some paranoid circus.”
“Then explain the certificate.”
“I’ve never seen it.”
The screen changed.
Bank transfer.
Damian-linked company.
Payment to county records employee.
Another transfer.
Payment to attorney Benjamin Rusk.
Another.
Detective Harold Pierce.
Pierce stood abruptly.
Two plainclothes officers moved into the aisle.
Pierce sat again.
Damian pointed at the screen.
“Financial records can be fabricated.”
Assistant U.S. Attorney Vasquez rose from the third pew.
“They can.”
Damian’s face changed.
She walked into the aisle.
“That is why federal investigators obtained independent copies under warrant.”
Vivian looked at me.
“You called federal investigators?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before you ordered the cake.”
It was not quite true, but the expression on her face made the exaggeration worthwhile.
She stepped toward me.
“Massimo, listen to me.”
“I’ve been listening for four days.”
“No. To me.”
“I heard you tell my mother you spent three years pretending to love her.”
Vivian’s eyes filled instantly.
Remarkable talent.
Tears on command.
“I was angry.”
“You stole her medication.”
“She was being difficult.”
I heard my mother inhale.
Wrong answer.
Vivian realized it too late.
She changed direction.
“Damian manipulated me.”
Damian stared at her.
“What?”
She turned.
“You told me the trust was unfair.”
He laughed once.
“You came to me.”
“You said Massimo would never give me anything.”
“And you believed me?”
“I loved him!”
That time, I did laugh.
Not loudly.
But enough.
Vivian turned back.
“You did love me,” she said.
Maybe that was the saddest part.
Once, I had.
Not the real Vivian.
The woman she performed.
The woman who remembered my mother’s birthday.
The woman who sent food to my security team during snowstorms.
The woman who stayed beside me when business negotiations kept me awake for three nights.
Maybe some of those moments had been genuine.
Maybe none.
It did not matter anymore.
“I loved someone who didn’t exist.”
Her face twisted.
“You think you’re innocent?”
“No.”
The answer surprised her.
“I know exactly what kind of man I’ve been.”
The cathedral remained silent.
“I know what fear my name creates. I know the choices I made because power was easier than trust.”
I looked toward my mother.
“Maybe that’s why she was afraid to tell me what was happening in my own home.”
Lucia’s eyes filled.
Then I looked at Sophie.
“And maybe that’s why the person who finally stood up had no reason to believe I would protect her.”
Sophie lowered her eyes.
Vivian followed my gaze.
Something hateful moved across her face.
“Oh.”
I looked back at her.
“That’s what this is.”
“What?”
“The maid.”
Sophie went still.
Vivian smiled bitterly.
“You’re humiliating me for her.”
“No.”
“You want her.”
The cathedral stirred.
I felt my patience thinning.
“Sophie Bennett is standing in this church because she protected my mother when you didn’t know anyone important was watching.”
Vivian’s eyes flashed.
“She’s nobody.”
My mother’s voice cut through the cathedral.
“No.”
Lucia rose from her wheelchair.
Sophie immediately reached for her.
My mother steadied herself on Sophie’s arm.
“She was somebody when you thought she was nobody.”
A murmur spread through the pews.
Lucia looked directly at Vivian.
“That is why she defeated you.”
Vivian stared at her.
Then at Sophie.
For a second, I saw the exact moment rage defeated calculation.
Vivian lunged.
Not far.
Not successfully.
But she moved toward Sophie.
Marco was already there.
He stepped between them, caught Vivian’s wrist, and turned her away without unnecessary force.
“Enough.”
Vivian screamed.
“Get your hands off me!”
Two female officers approached.
Her composure vanished.
“You can’t arrest me!”
One officer replied, “We absolutely can.”
Damian ran.
He actually tried.
He shoved past a guest and sprinted toward the side exit.
Unfortunately for Damian, the first pew on that side contained three federal agents and a retired heavyweight boxer who apparently misunderstood the situation and stuck out his leg.
Damian went down.
Hard.
The cathedral gasped.
The boxer looked embarrassed.
“Reflex.”
Even my mother laughed.
Agents restrained Damian.
He twisted toward me.
“You think this ends with me?”
I walked closer.
“No.”
His face became smug.
“Then you know.”
I stopped.
“Know what?”
Damian smiled.
“That Vivian wasn’t the only person in your house.”
The agents pulled him toward the aisle.
I looked at Marco.
He had heard it too.
So had Sophie.
Her expression changed.
“What does he mean?” she asked.
I didn’t answer because I didn’t know.
Outside the cathedral, arrests unfolded beneath hundreds of cameras.
Vivian covered her face.
Damian shouted about lawyers.
Pierce said nothing.
The paid bartender was detained near the reception venue before he ever served a drink.
Inside his locker, investigators found a small vial.
Lab analysis would later determine it contained a medication capable of dangerously lowering blood pressure when combined with alcohol.
Not the dramatic poison from some movie.
Something quieter.
Something that might have looked like a medical emergency.
Especially if the victim already had an intimidating reputation and a family full of people eager to call his death “stress.”
But Damian’s final words remained.
Vivian wasn’t the only person in your house.
The guests were asked to remain briefly while investigators completed statements.
I found Sophie beside my mother.
“You okay?” I asked.
She looked at me.
For the first time since I had revealed myself, we were face to face.
Her eyes were hazel.
I had never noticed.
“I thought you were in London.”
“I lied.”
“Yes.”
“I had a reason.”
“Still a lie.”
I almost smiled.
“Fair.”
She looked toward Vivian being escorted through the doors.
“You watched everything?”
My smile disappeared.
“Yes.”
“Everything?”
“Yes.”
The hurt in her expression surprised me.
“You let me think I might go to prison.”
“I had an attorney sent.”
“Anonymous.”
“I couldn’t expose the investigation.”
Sophie folded her arms.
“I understand that.”
“But?”
“But understanding something doesn’t mean enjoying it.”
“No.”
She looked at my mother.
“I’m glad Mrs. Moretti is safe.”
“She is because of you.”
Sophie shook her head.
“She’s safe because you finally believed her.”
That sentence hit where it was meant to.
I accepted it.
“You’re right.”
She looked at me again.
Most people apologized to me even when I was wrong.
Sophie corrected me without fear.
It was unsettling.
I liked it.
That was more unsettling.
Before I could say anything else, Marco approached.
“We have a problem.”
“What?”
“Security audit found an unauthorized transmitter in the east wing.”
“Camera?”
“Audio relay.”
“How long?”
“We don’t know.”
Sophie frowned.
“East wing?”
Marco nodded.
“Near Mrs. Moretti’s sitting room.”
Sophie’s face went pale.
“I’ve seen someone there.”
“Who?”
She hesitated.
“Dr. Keller.”
My mother’s private cardiology consultant.
The man who had advised us on Lucia’s recovery.
The man who had recommended reducing her nursing staff.
The man who had repeatedly told me her confusion was probably medication-related.
I looked at Marco.
“Find him.”
Marco touched his earpiece.
Then his expression hardened.
“He left the estate forty minutes ago.”
“Destination?”
“Unknown.”
The wedding conspiracy had collapsed.
But apparently, Damian had been telling the truth about one thing.
Someone else had been inside my house.
And unlike Vivian, that person now knew we were looking.