The Bride He Refused to Lose
Lorenzo slowly, calculatedly lifted his chin, his gray horizons narrowing into two razor-sharp slits as he tracked the visual grid through the sweeping windshield wipers.
Standing perfectly motionless at the absolute apex of the historic stone footbridge directly ahead of their vehicles... was a single, elegant silhouette. The individual was casually holding a large, black silk umbrella against the pouring rain, dressed in an immaculate suit.
The Chairman.
He offered a slow, chilling smile across the distance of the storm, his eyes gleaming through the dark. Then, with agonizing slowness, he lifted his left hand and pointed his index finger straight up toward the sky.