Chapter 6

On a stormy night, St. Patrick's Cathedral on Fifth Avenue loomed ominous in the dark.

The familiar black Bentley was parked out front. I had tailed Julian here.

Closing my black umbrella, I slipped through the side door like a ghost, silent and unseen. Under the massive dome, only the sanctuary lamp burned, casting two elongated shadows across the cold marble floor.

It was Julian, and Seraphina in her wheelchair.

I hid behind a massive stone pillar, holding my breath as I listened to their conversation over the rumble of thunder.

"Julian..." Seraphina’s voice held a note of testing insecurity. "The engagement party is tomorrow. Do you... do you have any regrets?"

Julian had his back to her, staring up at the statue of the Virgin Mary. His voice was devoid of emotion. "This is what I promised you. It's what the Vance family owes you."

"But..." Seraphina bit her lip, wheeling herself closer to tug at the hem of his jacket. "You've been out of it for days. Ever since you cut off Elara's cards, you just stare at your phone."

"Are you having second thoughts? Or..." She added a sob to her voice. "Have you actually fallen in love with her? After all, she really did suffer alongside you for three years. If you can't bear to do it, let's just forget the plan... I can handle the injustice..."

Julian stiffened visibly.

That moment of silence was amplified infinitely in the empty church.

I stood in the shadows, watching his back. He was struggling. Teetering on the edge of reason and emotion.

But in the end, he didn't choose me.

He slowly crouched down and took Seraphina's hand. His eyes turned gentle again—or perhaps, he was just trying to convince himself.

"Don't overthink it, Seraphina. What I feel for her is mostly just... habit."

"She made a mistake, and she has to be punished. I took her company to reclaim what belongs to you. Tomorrow's engagement party is the final step."

"I will make her kneel and apologize to you in front of everyone. I'll make her admit what she did back then. As long as she bows her head and you get your revenge, this will all be over."

"I promise you, after tomorrow, she will never be arrogant in front of you again."

Seraphina smiled through her tears, leaning into his embrace, though a flash of malice flickered in her eyes. "I knew you were the most just man in the world, Julian. I'll go wait in the car. The rain is heavy, and I'm not feeling well."

"Okay. Let the driver take you back. I want to stay here alone for a while."

When Seraphina left, the heavy church doors swung shut again.

Julian was left alone in the vast space.

The tenderness vanished from his face instantly, replaced by a deep exhaustion and confusion.

There was no priest. He knelt alone before the statue of the Virgin Mary, hands clasped, looking like he was praying—or perhaps delivering a monologue of self-deception.

His voice was quiet, but in the deathly silence of the cathedral, every word drilled clearly into my ears.

"Lord, I have sinned."

"I always thought I hated Elara. I thought everything I did was to bring justice for Seraphina. But why... why does my heart ache so much when I imagine her being condemned by the world tomorrow?"

"I have to admit, in this three-year game of revenge, I... I fell for her."

Hearing this, I didn't feel moved. I felt bile rise in my throat. Fell for me? Trampling my dignity into the dirt and forcing my father to his death—that’s your idea of falling for someone?

Julian lowered his head, his voice taking on a tone of naive, almost charitable planning.

"But I can't stop. Seraphina lost her legs because of her, and I have a responsibility to give Seraphina closure. Tomorrow's engagement party is Elara's final atonement."

"As long as she kneels on that stage and apologizes to Seraphina, I will forgive her."

He looked up at the compassionate face of the Virgin Mary, his eyes gleaming with a self-righteous, fanatical light.

"I've already planned it out. Once the ceremony is over and Seraphina has cooled off, I'll take Elara away."

"I'll use the Thorne family name to protect her so she doesn't actually go to prison. I'll keep her in that lakeside villa in Finland."

"Isn't her father sick? I'll hire the world's best specialists to treat him. No matter the cost, I'll save Oliver. That will be my compensation to her."

At this, the corners of his mouth actually lifted in a gentle smile, as if he could already see the picture in his head.

"By then, she should have learned her lesson. She'll learn to stop lying, stop being willful. I'll make her give me a child. Once we have a child, she'll never be able to leave me. We'll live like we did in Brooklyn. As long as she's willing to be the woman in my shadows, I can give her everything except the title..."

"Lord, please bless tomorrow's plan. It will be the starting point for us to begin again."

In the shadows, I clamped my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

What a perfect plan. What an arrogant "starting point."

He thought tomorrow's engagement was just a ritual to humiliate me, a way to answer to Seraphina, and a trigger for our "fresh start."

But he had no idea that Seraphina wasn't just planning humiliation—she had forged ironclad evidence of "attempted murder by arson." She was setting up a dead end to send me to prison for life!

He had no idea that the Oliver he planned to "hire experts to save" had already been lying in a cold morgue for three days. And it was precisely because he froze that money to "teach me a lesson" that my father was stripped of his last chance at surgery.

Save Oliver? Julian, you'll have to go to hell to save him.

As for a child... You want me to bear the child of the man who killed my father? To be your secret mistress for life?

Your "deep affection" is simply nauseating.

I watched Julian kneeling there, immersed in his own self-righteousness, and the last spark of warmth in my eyes died out completely.

You think you're in control. You think you're granting mercy. You don't realize you're digging a grave you'll never crawl out of.

"Amen."

Julian crossed himself, stood up, and straightened his collar. He looked much more relaxed, as if he had unloaded a heavy burden and was ready for tomorrow's "win-win" ending.

He turned and walked out of the church, disappearing into the rainy night.

Once he was gone, I stepped out from behind the pillar.

I walked to the spot where he had just knelt and looked up at the statue of the Virgin Mary.

"God won't forgive you, Julian," I whispered.

"Because I won't either."

I took out my phone and confirmed tomorrow's arrangements one last time.

Turning around, I strode toward the door.

Goodbye, Julian.