
Handing Him Eviction Papers at Our Wedding Altar
Chapter 3
"Mr. Miller," I said, keeping my gaze locked on Julian's pale face. "Clear the altar."
"Yes, Ms. Quinn," the security director replied.
Julian stepped forward, pointing a trembling finger at Miller. "Stand down! I am her fiancé. This is my wedding."
"You canceled the wedding ten minutes ago," I pointed out.
"It was a mistake!" Julian shouted, spinning to face the crowd. "A misunderstanding! The ceremony will proceed as planned."
"No, it won't," I said.
"You are overreacting, Harper. We can talk about this in private. We can negotiate."
"We have nothing to discuss."
"I am the CEO!"
"You are a trespasser."
Julian glared at the line of guards. "If any of you lay a hand on me, I will have you fired. I will ruin your careers. Do you hear me?"
Miller didn't even blink. "Take him."
Two massive men in black suits flanked Julian.
"Don't you dare," Julian hissed.
The guard on his right grabbed his bicep. The guard on his left seized his other arm. They hoisted him upward in one smooth motion.
Julian's expensive dress shoes lifted entirely off the marble floor.
"Get your hands off me!" Julian roared.
He thrashed wildly. He kicked his legs, trying to find purchase on the smooth stone.
Chloe rushed forward, grabbing Julian's sleeve. "Stop! You're hurting him!"
"Step back, ma'am," the guard warned, easily shaking her off.
Chloe stumbled, catching herself on the podium. "You have no right to do this!"
"I have every right," I replied.
"Harper, stop them!" Julian commanded, his face turning a blotchy, furious red.
"Why would I do that?" I asked.
"Because we are going to fix this!"
"There is nothing to fix."
"I'll sign whatever you want!" Julian pleaded, his tone shifting from anger to panic. "Just tell them to put me down."
"You already signed everything."
I reached into the hidden pocket of my custom dress. My fingers found the heavy cardstock.
I pulled out our vow cards. The gold embossing caught the cathedral lights, flashing brightly.
Julian stopped kicking for a fraction of a second. "What are you doing with those?"
"I want to read my favorite part," I said.
"Put the cards away, Harper. Don't do this."
"I promise to build an empire with you," I read aloud, my voice carrying easily over the massive room. "To stand by your side through every storm."
"I meant it," he insisted, straining against the guards' hold.
"You meant to steal my company."
"I built that company!"
"You spent my money."
I gripped the top edge of the thick paper. I pulled my hands in opposite directions.
The cardstock tore with a sharp, satisfying rip.
"Harper, no!"
I stacked the two halves together. I ripped them again. Then a third time.
"You are throwing away three years!" Julian yelled.
"I am taking out the trash."
I stepped right up to him. He glared down at me, his chest heaving with exertion.
"You're a monster," he spat.
"I'm the owner."
I hurled the handful of shredded cardboard directly into his face.
The stiff pieces scattered. One jagged edge caught his upper cheekbone. It scraped hard across his skin.
A bright red welt bloomed instantly on his pale face.
Julian let out a raw, guttural noise. A trapped beast cornered and desperate.
He kicked his legs again, his shoes scuffing the marble. He twisted his torso, trying to break the guards' iron grip.
His perfectly tailored tuxedo jacket bunched up around his neck. The crisp white shirt wrinkled into a messy, ruined pile of fabric.
I watched him struggle.
A tiny knot of grief had sat heavy in my chest all morning. I felt it dissolve completely. Pure, freezing satisfaction rushed in to take its place.
"Get out," I commanded.
"You will pay for this!" Julian screamed as the guards dragged him backward down the side aisle. "I will take everything!"
"You have nothing left to take," I called after him.
"Julian!" Chloe wailed. She hiked up her heavy silk gown and sprinted after them, her shoes echoing loudly on the stone.
"Wait for me!" Chloe cried out.
"Don't let them take him!" a guest yelled from the back.
"Keep moving," Miller instructed his men.
I turned away from the pathetic display. I faced the long center aisle.
Five hundred guests stared at me in absolute silence.
"The event is over," I announced. "Please exit through the rear doors."
No one moved.
"Now," I added.
The spell broke. Guests scrambled out of the pews, rushing toward the exits.
I kept my chin high. I stepped off the altar.
I walked down the red carpet. The remaining crowd parted instantly, giving me a wide berth.
"Harper," Marcus said, falling into step beside me. "We need to finalize the board meeting."
"Schedule it for tomorrow morning," I replied.
"They will want answers."
"They will get profits. That's all they care about."
I reached the grand foyer. The heavy oak doors stood open, leading out into the bright afternoon sun.
"I'll bring the car around," Marcus offered.
"No. I need a minute."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
I didn't slow my pace. I marched right through the threshold.
I slammed directly into a solid wall of muscle.
A sharp scent hit my senses. Strong cigar smoke and crisp, cool mint.
I stumbled backward. Large hands caught my elbows, steadying me before I could fall.
"Careful," a deep, resonant voice rumbled.
I looked up.
Silas Sterling stared down at me. His dark eyes gave away absolutely nothing.
"Mr. Sterling," I said, catching my balance.
"Ms. Quinn."
He released my arms. He reached into his dark suit jacket.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Watching a hostile takeover."
His long fingers emerged holding a pure black access card.
He extended it toward me.
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