He kissed her forehead, a cold, performative gesture. “Go. I’ll see you at the altar.”
As she walked away, David felt a swell of pride. He had curated this guest list with the ruthlessness of a dictator. Everyone here was useful. Everyone here believed the lie: that David was a self-made genius with no baggage, no past, and certainly no skeletons in his closet.
The orchestra began to swell, a soft, harmonious prelude that signaled the ceremony was about to begin. The guests took their seats, a sea of pastel silks and linen suits. David took his place at the altar, folding his hands. He felt invincible.
Chapter 2: The Disruption
The sound was the first thing to break the spell.
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