Chapter 2: The Vow of Vengeance
Elena stood paralyzed, her bridal luxury feeling suddenly like a lead weight. She looked at Julian, desperate for him to intervene, to call security, to prove that this was a nightmare. But Julian was staring at Clara’s scars, his eyes wide with a mixture of terror and buried guilt.
"Clara?" Julian breathed, his voice barely a tremor. "You... you were gone. The car... the coroner..."
"The coroner worked for your father, didn't he, Julian?" Clara replied, her eyes burning with the memory of the fire. "You thought that burning me alive in that wreckage would be enough to clear your path to the Thorne fortune and your mistress here. You didn't count on the fact that I survived."
The cathedral felt like a tomb. The guests, initially shocked, were now leaned forward, their masks of high-society etiquette falling away to reveal the hunger for drama.
Clara began to peel back the bandages on her forearm, revealing the deep, permanent marks of the flames. "These aren't just scars, Julian. They are my vow of vengeance. Every time I looked in the mirror for the last three years, I didn't see a victim. I saw a debt collector."
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"This is madness!" Elena finally shrieked, her voice thin and desperate. "Julian, tell them! Tell them she’s an imposter!"
But Julian stayed silent. He couldn't lie, not with Clara’s gaze pinning him to the floor like a butterfly on a board. He knew. Everyone who mattered, knew.
