Chapter 9 - Parting the Sea of Guests
Valentina began her descent down the center aisle. She walked slowly, her steps measured and deliberate, the ruined train of her dress dragging heavily behind her.
As she moved, the guests parted before her like the waters of the Red Sea. The murmurs died down, replaced by a stunned, respectful silence. The people who had been whispering about her mere minutes ago now shrunk back into their pews, avoiding her fierce, unwavering gaze.
May you like
No one said a word. No one reached out to touch her arm. She listened for the sound of hurried footsteps behind her, the sound of Rodrigo finally breaking free from his mother's grasp to chase after her. But there was nothing. Just the rustle of her own dress and the rhythmic clicking of her heels against the stone.
At the altar, Élida Montserrat de Cabrales watched the retreating figure. The elegant, icy smile never left the older woman's lips. She stood tall, radiating a toxic, victorious energy. She was utterly convinced of her own triumph, entirely blind to the catastrophic reality of what she had just set into motion.
