Chapter 1 - The Broken Altar
The crystal chandelier cast a brilliant glow over the lavish hotel ballroom.
Adrian stood at the grand floral altar in a flawlessly tailored black tuxedo.
He was ready to marry Victoria, the glamorous heiress standing before him in a million-dollar gown.
The wealthy guests watched in absolute silence as the priest raised his hands to deliver the final blessing.
Suddenly, the heavy mahogany doors at the back of the ballroom burst open with a deafening crash.
Clara was barefoot, exhausted, and crying.
Her fragile summer dress was torn and covered in dark mud.
In her arms was baby Mia, sobbing against her shoulder.
The whole ballroom stared like they were intruders.
The elite socialites gasped in shock at the sight of the dirty, shivering children.
Then Clara looked at the groom and whispered a single, heartbreaking word.
"Daddy..."
Victoria’s face changed instantly.
Her serene, beautiful smile twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated rage.
She stormed down the aisle, her expensive heels clicking aggressively against the polished marble floor.
She grabbed Clara’s frail arm and tried to drag both children away before Adrian could understand.
"Get these filthy beggars out of my wedding right now!" Victoria screamed to the stunned security guards.
But Clara refused to let go of her baby sister.
She dropped to her knees, shielding the weeping infant with her own bruised body.
That was when Adrian finally moved.
He sprinted down the long aisle with explosive, terrifying speed.
He broke Victoria’s grip, tossing his furious bride aside without a second thought.
He knelt down to protect the girls and saw the silver necklace clutched tightly in Clara’s dirty hand.
It was his family crest.
Tucked safely behind the heavy silver pendant was an old, faded photo.
It was a picture of Adrian holding a newborn baby alongside a woman he thought had died five years ago.
It was a truth Victoria had tried to hide by destroying his mail and bribing his private investigators.
Adrian looked up at the trembling sixteen-year-old girl, tears filling his eyes as the memories flooded back.
Then he looked at his bride with absolute, icy disgust.
"I will not marry you."
"This wedding is completely over."
Victoria did not cry or beg for forgiveness.
She simply wiped the dust from her expensive gown and smiled a chilling, wicked smile.
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She raised her hand in the air and snapped her manicured fingers loudly.
Dozens of men in tailored suits drew hidden weapons and locked every single door in the ballroom.
