Chapter 24 - The Wedding That Never Happened
Our wedding was scheduled for June 17.
At least, that was the plan.
Four hundred guests.
A restored lakefront estate.
White peonies.
A string quartet.
Enough security to protect a visiting president.
At 10:42 on the morning of June 17, I stood in my bridal suite wearing half my dress when Gideon walked in without knocking.
That was how I knew something was wrong.
Naomi gasped.
“She's changing!”
Gideon didn't notice.
“Harper.”
I turned.
“What happened?”
“Lucian is missing.”
Everything inside me stopped.
“What?”
“He left Halcyon at six this morning.”
“For what?”
“To meet Salvatore.”
“Where?”
“Private airfield outside Aurora.”
“Why?”
“Salvatore claimed he had evidence identifying the remaining council members financing Mason.”
My hands went cold.
“And?”
“Lucian's convoy arrived.”
Gideon paused.
“Salvatore wasn't there.”
“Where is Lucian now?”
“We lost contact eight minutes later.”
The room blurred.
Naomi grabbed my arm.
I forced myself to breathe.
“No.”
Everyone looked at me.
“No panic.”
I walked toward the table.
“Show me the airfield.”
Gideon opened satellite images.
“Where did the last tracker signal come from?”
He showed me.
A hangar.
I stared.
Something familiar.
The roofline.
The window placement.
“Zoom out.”
He did.
Three connected industrial buildings.
A narrow access road.
Old railroad tracks.
I had seen it before.
Not in person.
In the blue ledger scans.
One of Alessandro Moretti's old freight properties.
“That's not an airfield,” I said.
Gideon frowned.
“It was.”
“Before.”
I pulled up municipal maps.
“The property was converted into private storage fifteen years ago.”
“Owned by?”
I searched.
A shell corporation.
The registered manager made my blood run cold.
Daniel Mercer.
“Call the FBI.”
“Already did.”
I looked toward my wedding dress hanging from my body.
Naomi stared.
“What are you doing?”
I ripped off the silk overskirt.
“Finding my fiancé.”
Gideon shook his head.
“No.”
I pointed at him.
“Do not start.”
“The FBI is handling it.”
“The FBI doesn't know that building.”
“You don't either.”
“I understand buildings.”
I pulled up original plans from county records.
A massive hangar.
Two offices.
Underground fuel storage.
And an old storm tunnel leading beneath the railroad tracks.
“There.”
Gideon studied it.
“That tunnel won't show on modern maps.”
“Exactly.”
Thirty minutes later, I was in an armored SUV wearing leggings, boots, a white silk bridal blouse, and the angriest expression of my life.
Naomi had made me take off the veil.
“Too visible,” she said.
The FBI established a perimeter.
Agents entered through the hangars.
Gideon and I waited beside the storm tunnel.
“Stay here.”
“I am staying.”
He entered with two agents.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Then gunfire echoed somewhere underground.
I stopped breathing.
A radio crackled.
“Suspect in custody!”
Another voice.
“Victim located!”
I ran before anyone could stop me.
The tunnel opened into a concrete utility room.
Lucian sat against the wall.
Blood ran from his forehead.
His wrists were bound.
But he was alive.
“Harper?”
I dropped beside him.
His eyes widened.
“What are you wearing?”
I laughed and cried simultaneously.
“My wedding clothes.”
“You came here dressed for the wedding?”
“I changed the shoes.”
He actually smiled.
Gideon cut the restraints.
Across the room, federal agents held Salvatore.
My heart shattered.
Lucian saw me looking.
“It wasn't him.”
“What?”
Salvatore's face was bruised.
“They took him too.”
“Who?”
An agent dragged another man from behind a partition.
One of the Moretti council members.
Carlo Bellandi.
Seventy years old.
Elegant.
Respected.
Terrified.
Lucian stood unsteadily.
“Carlo worked with Mercer.”
Bellandi glared.
“Your father destroyed tradition.”
Lucian looked at him.
“My father tried to stop criminals pretending tradition made them honorable.”
Bellandi spat near his shoes.
“You would throw away generations for that woman?”
Lucian turned toward me.
Then he smiled.
“Yes.”
Bellandi was taken away.
Outside, the afternoon sun had broken through the clouds.
I looked at my phone.
2:36 p.m.
Our ceremony had been scheduled for two.
Lucian saw the screen.
“The wedding.”
I laughed helplessly.
“Technically, you're late.”
“Harper.”
“We can reschedule.”
He looked toward the lake in the distance.
Then at Gideon.
“How many people are still at the estate?”
“All of them.”
“Minister?”
“Yes.”
Lucian looked at me.
“You want to get married?”
I stared at the blood on his forehead.
My torn blouse.
My dirty boots.
“You look terrible.”
“So do you.”
I gasped.
He smiled.
“Beautiful. But dangerous.”
May you like
I took his hand.
“Take me to our wedding.”
