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Chapter 743
Chapter 743:
“The wedding,” Arthur smirked. “Check the news p>
The officer shoved him forward. “Move it p>
Skye pulled out her phone.
Her jaw dropped.
Every major news outlet was running the same headline: SKYE STERLING AND ALISTAIR THORNE TO WED IN LAVISH CEREMONY THIS WEEKEND.
“What the hell?” Alistair asked, reading over her shoulder.
“It’s a fake leak,” Skye said. “Celeste planted it before the raid. Why p>
“To create a target-rich environment,” Skye realized. “If the Syndicate wants to wipe us all out—me, you, Julian—a wedding is the perfect trap. They think we’ll be grouped together p>
“So we cancel it,” Alistair said.
“No,” Skye said slowly. She looked at the empty spot on the gantry where Liam had been. “If we cancel, the hit squad goes underground. They’ll pick us off one by one. We’ll never be safe p>
“So what are you suggesting?” Alistair asked.
“We hold the wedding,” Skye said. “We make it the biggest, loudest event of the year. We lure them in p>
“You want to use your own wedding as a mousetrap?” Alistair asked, incredulous.
“It’s not a real wedding,” Skye said. “It’s a stage. And we’re going to write the final act p>
“I hate this,” Alistair said. “But it’s brilliant p>
“Who’s the groom?” Alistair asked.
“You are,” Skye said. “The press already thinks we’re engaged. We have to sell it p>
Alistair looked away, his jaw tightening.
“And Liam?” Alistair asked quietly.
𝘋𝘰𝘄𝗇l𝘰𝘢𝖽 𝗳𝘳ee 𝘰𝗇 𝖻𝗲𝘭nо𝘃е𝗹s.cо𝗺
“He’ll be there,” Skye said, clutching her blanket. “He won’t let them kill us. He’s the only security I trust p>
“Even if he can’t show his face,” Alistair noted.
“Especially then p>
“And Julian p>
“Best man,” Skye said. “He needs to be there. To see it end p>
“He can’t stand,” Alistair reminded her.
“He will,” Skye said. “He has three days p>
The next three days were a whirlwind of tulle and tactical planning.
The venue was St. Mary’s Cathedral—big, open, and impossible to secure completely, which was exactly the point. They needed the assassins to think they had a shot.
Julian was in the gym at the Vance Estate, sweating through his silk shirt. He was gripping the parallel bars, his knuckles white.
“Again,” Lucian barked. He was acting as Julian’s physical therapist and drill sergeant.
“I can’t,” Julian gasped, his legs shaking.
