Chapter 7 - CHECKMATE
The string quartet played the opening notes of Pachelbel’s Canon in D. The massive double doors to the ballroom swung open. Five hundred guests—the elite of Atlanta society, politicians, business moguls, and my entire company staff—turned to look at me.
I walked down the aisle alone. My neck throbbed where Elijah had grabbed me, the red marks stark against my pale skin. Whispers erupted through the crowd as they noticed the bruising, but I kept my head high, my eyes locked on the altar.
Gavin stood there in a custom tuxedo, flanked by his groomsmen. Naomi sat in the front row, wearing a sickeningly smug smile. Gavin’s smile faltered as I approached, his eyes darting to the marks on my neck, confusion and panic setting in when he realized his father was missing.
I reached the altar and stood facing him. The priest opened his book, but I raised my hand, silencing him.
The room fell into a deathly hush.
“Gavin,” I said, my voice amplified by a hidden microphone clipped to my bodice. It echoed cleanly across the silent ballroom. “Before we take our vows, I have a wedding gift for you and your family. Something I think everyone here needs to see.”
I snapped my fingers.
The massive LED screens behind the altar, meant for a romantic slideshow, suddenly flared to life.
The first video played. It was crisp, undeniable footage from the camera hidden in my pearl brooch. The giant screens showed Naomi in the storage room, her face contorted in vicious rage, bringing a wooden stick down on Brianna’s back. The sound of the strike, followed by Brianna’s agonizing whimper, blasted through the ballroom speakers.
The crowd gasped. Screams of horror erupted from the front rows. Naomi leaped from her seat, her face pale as a ghost, screaming at the AV technicians to turn it off.
Then, the audio files started playing. Elijah’s booming voice filled the room, bragging about defrauding his investors, laughing about how they were going to drain Alyssa Wellman’s company and leave her with the debt.
Gavin lunged forward, grabbing my arm. “Alyssa, what the hell are you doing?! Turn this off!”
“Don’t touch me,” I said, yanking my arm free. I stepped back, looking at the man I had almost married. “You wanted my company, Gavin. You wanted my money to cover up your family’s pathetic, criminal failures. You stood by and smoked a cigarette while your mother tortured a woman in your own home.”
“It’s a lie!” Naomi shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at me. “She fabricated all of it! Security, remove her!”
But the security personnel standing at the doors didn’t move. Instead, they stepped aside as a dozen federal agents in windbreakers marked FBI marched into the ballroom, flanked by Atlanta Police.
Chaos descended. Guests scrambled out of the way. Agents swarmed the altar. They grabbed Gavin, slamming him against the floral archway and slapping handcuffs on his wrists. Two female officers approached Naomi, ignoring her hysterical screaming, and arrested her in front of five hundred horrified witnesses.
“Alyssa! Alyssa, please!” Gavin begged, tears streaming down his face as he was dragged away. “I love you! I didn't want any of this!”
I looked at him, feeling absolutely nothing but icy satisfaction. “I told you, Gavin. I was going to devote myself entirely to our future. And I did. Enjoy federal prison.”
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From the side door, my security guards dragged in a handcuffed, bleeding Elijah, handing him directly over to the FBI. The entire Herndon dynasty, dismantled and destroyed in less than ten minutes.
I turned away from the altar and walked back down the aisle. Waiting for me at the end of it was Brianna. She was crying, but for the first time since I met her, she was smiling. We walked out of the ballroom together, leaving the ruins of the Herndon family behind us.
