Chapter 8 - The Live Microphone
The hitman glared at Adrian with absolute disgust, entirely unimpressed by his cowardice.
He grabbed my hair and dragged me roughly up the marble steps of the altar.
"Is that true, Adrian?" the hitman asked, keeping his gun aimed at my head.
Adrian stood up, dusting off his expensive tuxedo, and puffed out his chest with restored arrogance.
"Of course it is true, I forged her signature on every single cartel transfer!" Adrian boasted proudly.
He began pacing the altar, unable to stop his massive ego from bragging about his supposed genius.
"I beat her into submission for eight years, I stole every penny she ever earned, and I framed her for federal fraud!" he shouted.
He laughed cruelly, kicking the hem of Vanessa's ruined wedding dress.
"I manipulated the police, the judges, and everyone in this room, because I am untouchable!" Adrian declared.
I looked at him, feeling absolutely no fear, only a profound sense of victory.
"You really are a fool, Adrian," I whispered into the silence of the chapel.
Adrian stopped pacing and glared at me.
"What did you say to me, you worthless woman?" he growled.
I smiled, a genuine, radiant smile, and slowly reached toward the priest's podium.
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"I said you are a fool, because I turned the priest's lapel microphone on five minutes ago," I announced.
I pointed toward the open chapel doors, revealing that his entire confession had just been broadcast directly to the FBI task force waiting outside.
