Chapter 2 - Dropping the Match
I didn't repeat myself to him. I simply turned away from my groom, stepped past the bewildered priest, and tapped the microphone on the pulpit.
Thump. Thump.
The feedback whined sharply, slicing through the murmurs of the congregation. The room fell dead silent.
"Good afternoon, everyone," I said, my voice echoing off the stained glass windows. "I know my dress is a bit unconventional. Victoria Sterling designed it herself just three hours ago in my bridal suite, complete with a lovely note reminding me to 'remember who I am.'"
A shockwave rippled through the pews. People turned to look at Victoria, who was now clutching her pearl necklace, her face flushed red.
"This is insane!" Victoria hissed, standing up. "Julian, get her down from there! She’s having a breakdown!"
"I know exactly who I am," I continued, ignoring her entirely. "I am Elena Vance. An auditor for the federal oversight committee. And for the last six months, I haven't just been planning a wedding. I’ve been auditing the Sterling Group’s private offshore accounts."
Julian lunged for the microphone, but my father and two of my uncles—broad-shouldered men who worked in construction—stepped out of the front pew, blocking him effortlessly.
"The Sterling family empire," I projected to the crowd of investors and politicians, "is a Ponzi scheme built on phantom real estate in the Cayman Islands. Furthermore, Julian Sterling has been using the company's charity foundation to launder money for his private gambling debts."
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I reached into the hidden pocket of my stained gown—a pocket I had sewn in myself—and pulled out a small, black flash drive.
"I have the receipts. The emails. The forged signatures. And as of ten minutes ago, while the string quartet was tuning their instruments, this entire drive was emailed to the SEC, the FBI, and the New York Times."
