Janey reached the altar. Marcus practically shoved her hand into Austin's.
Austin's hand was dry and cool. As his fingers closed around hers, he leaned in, ostensibly to kiss her cheek.
"Is it done?" he murmured against her skin.
"Watch the screens," Janey breathed back.
They separated. They turned to face the officiant.
"Dearly beloved," the priest began, his voice booming through the acoustics of the cathedral-style ballroom. "We are gathered here today to unite these two families..."
Janey stared straight ahead. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, but her face was a mask of serene devotion.
She counted the seconds.
One. Two. Three.
The officiant droned on about unity and legacy. The guests shifted in their seats.
"And now," the priest said, gesturing to the massive LED screens flanking the altar, "let us look back at the journey that brought us here."
The lights dimmed.
The screens flickered to life.
For a moment, it was a montage of childhood photos. A young Austin. A young Doria (with Janey's face expertly photoshopped in for public consumption). Polite applause rippled through the crowd.
Then, the image distorted. Static cut across the smiling faces.
The feed switched.
The resolution was grainy, a security camera angle, high up in a corner. But the picture was clear enough.
It was a bedroom. The VIP Suite.
Two figures were on the bed.
A collective gasp sucked the air out of the room.
The woman was on top, her pink maid-of-honor dress torn at the shoulder. She was frantic, her movements wild and uncoordinated.
"Doria?" someone whispered in the front row.
The man beneath her turned his face to the side.
Carter Hayes.
He was laughing, gripping Doria's hips, but he was looking at the door, shouting something.
The audio feed kicked in with a screech of feedback.
"Babe!" Carter's voice boomed through the wedding speakers. "Your sister is all over me! You better get up here!"
Silence. Absolute, dead silence.
Doria, delirious, grabbed Carter's face. "Austin... just sign the papers... give me the money..."
The crowd erupted.
Marcus Roy dropped his champagne glass. It shattered, the sound like a gunshot. His face drained of all blood.
Helene Roy, Doria's mother, stood up and screamed. "Turn it off! Turn it off!"
She scrambled toward the A/V booth, but the door was locked. Vivian had done her job.
On the screen, Doria was kissing Carter, mumbling about the stock price and the prenup.
Austin stood perfectly still. He looked up at the screen, his expression unreadable. Then he turned to look at Janey.
Janey brought her hands to her mouth. She widened her eyes. She took a stumbling step back.
"Doria?" she cried out, her voice breaking perfectly. "Carter? How could they?"
She looked like a woman whose heart had just been ripped out.
Austin caught her arm, steadying her. His grip was firm. He looked into her eyes and saw the calculation behind the tears.
He stepped up to the microphone.
"It seems," Austin said, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade, "that the Roy family has provided a very specific dowry."
He looked out at the horrified board members, the gleeful press, the ruined Roys.
"Cut the feed," he ordered calmly.
The screens went black.
But the damage was nuclear.
