---- Chapter 9 Ivy Farley POV: The wedding was an obscene display of wealth and power, set on a sprawling yacht gliding across the dark, choppy waters of Lake Michigan. Strings of fairy lights glittered against the Chicago skyline, a cruel mockery of the stars that were hidden by the overcast sky. Holden's men, armed and stone-faced, lined the decks, their presence turning the celebration into a heavily guarded fortress. | arrived not as a guest, but as an invading army. When | stepped onto the deck, | could feel the ripple of shock move through the crowd. | wore a blood-red dress, a stark contrast to the sea of pastels and muted tones. My face was a calm, cold mask, betraying none of the roiling chaos inside me. | saw them at the bow, standing before a flower-draped altar. Kaela was a vision in white, a couture gown dripping with diamonds that probably cost more than the car she used to drive. Holden was beside her, his hand at the small of her back, a proud smile on his face as he looked at his new bride. He was a perfect liar. He had promised me a wedding like this once, under the stars, with an orchestra playing our song. We never got it. We were ---- too busy fighting, clawing our way to the top. It was a promise deferred, a dream | had held onto. Seeing it realized for her was like salt in an open wound. As he turned to greet a guest, | saw him bend down to adjust the train of her dress, his movements full of a practiced tenderness. He looked happy. Genuinely, disgustingly happy. That' s when | gave the signal. A massive crystal chandelier hanging over the main deck suddenly crashed to the floor, exploding in a shower of glass and metal. Screams erupted. Chaos ensued. And in that chaos, my men emerged. They had come aboard posing as waiters, musicians, and even guests. They shed their disguises, revealing the tactical gear and heavy artillery beneath. Within seconds, we had control of the yacht. | discovered then that there were no real guests. Every single person on that yacht was one of mine. Holden's fortress was a Trojan horse. Holden's happy facade shattered. He stared at me, his eyes wide with disbelief, and instinctively pulled Kaela behind him. The protective stance was so familiar it made my chest ache. "Ivy," he said, his voice tight. "What is the meaning of this?" "I'm just here to offer a wedding gift," | said, my voice carrying easily over the terrified whimpers of his bride. | strolled forward, my heels clicking on the deck, and settled into a large, ---- throne-like chair that had been set up for the wedding photos. | lit a cigarette, the cherry glowing in the dim light. "Kill the music," | ordered one of my men. The romantic string quartet fell silent. "Put on something a little more... truthful," | said, nodding towards the sound system A moment later, Holden's voice filled the air. My voice. And Kaela's. It was the recording. Their grunts, their sighs, their damning conversation played out for everyone to hear. "Why m: Kaela's naive question echoed across the water. And then, Holden' s monstrous reply. "vy... she's tainted... dirty... she could never give me a pure heir... it makes my skin crawl... that's why | made sure she could never get pregnant again..." The color drained from Holden's face. He looked horrified, exposed, like a creature of the dark suddenly dragged into the light. Kaela was staring at him, her mouth agape, her fairy-tale wedding turning into a public trial. The recording ended. An oppressive silence fell over the yacht, broken only by the sound of the waves lapping against the hull. | took a slow drag from my cigarette and looked at the man | had once loved more than life itself. He was shaking, not from ---- fear, but from pure, unadulterated rage at his darkest secret being laid bare. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand being seen for what he truly was.