Rising From Ashes: The Vengeful Heiress2 / 3

Chapter 2

The high-resolution projection screens illuminated the cathedral nave, casting a harsh glow across the vaulted stone.

Instead of the planned wedding montage, stark black-and-white financial ledgers filled the display. Millions of dollars in offshore wire transfers flickered across the screen, routed directly between the Small Consortium's shell corporations and the accounts of the notorious York crime syndicate.

At the bottom of every document sat the clear, undeniable electronic signature of Jaziel.

The congregation erupted into chaos.

Billionaires, city council members, and Wall Street executives rose from their pews, pointing at the glowing numbers in disbelief.

Denita stared at the giant display. Her breath hitched as a specific wire transfer flashed into view—two million dollars routed straight into her private off-shore trust three days after Beatrix's disappearance four years ago.

"This is a deepfake!" Denita screamed, spinning toward the crowd with wild eyes. "She forged these documents to slander us! Jaziel, tell them!"

Jaziel remained completely still. His dark eyes scanned the ledgers on the screen, his face an unreadable mask of stone. He did not deny the evidence, nor did he offer an explanation.

Beatrix ascended the first two steps of the marble altar, the bitter scent of her jasmine perfume reaching him.

"Forged?" Beatrix mocked.

She reached into Julian's leather satchel, pulled out a thick stack of printed hard copies, and threw them into the air.

The heavy paper sheets rained down across the front pews. Several prominent hedge fund managers scrambled to grab them, their eyes widening as they inspected the blue-ink federal notary stamps on each page.

"These are certified bank drafts," one executive muttered loudly. "These are authentic."

Denita lost all control. With a feral scream, she lunged forward, raising her manicured hand to strike Beatrix across the face.

Beatrix did not flinch.

Her hand shot out, catching Denita's wrist mid-air with bone-cracking force. Before Denita could scream, Beatrix twisted the joint downward, driving her knee forward and forcing the bride down onto the cold marble floor.

Denita cried out in genuine pain, her silk veil tearing against her tiara.

"Touch me again, cousin," Beatrix whispered, leaning down until her breath brushed Denita's ear, "and I will snap it in half."

Beatrix released her grip, tossing Denita's arm aside like trash.

Jaziel took a step forward, his tall frame casting a long shadow over Beatrix.

"You've made your point, Beatrix," Jaziel said, his voice flat, devoid of warmth. "Stop this now."

Beatrix tilted her chin up, meeting his imposing gaze without a trace of fear.

"I am just getting started, Mr. Small."

The heavy oak doors at the entrance banged open again.

Heavily armed federal tactical agents in dark windbreakers flooded down the center aisle, their boots thudding against the carpet runner.

"FBI Financial Crimes Division! Nobody move!" shouted the lead agent, flashing a gold badge as his team sealed every exit.

Guests shrieked, pressing back against the pews to clear a wide path.

Denita scrambled backward on her hands and knees, her designer gown ripping along the hem as she abandoned Jaziel on the altar steps.

The lead agent marched straight up to Jaziel, pulling a pair of heavy steel handcuffs from his belt.

"Jaziel, you are under arrest for federal money laundering and conspiracy."

Jaziel did not resist. He calmly extended his wrists, his dark eyes never leaving Beatrix's face.

The steel cuffs clicked shut with a sharp, metallic ring that silenced the entire cathedral.

Beatrix crossed her arms over her chest. A sudden, sharp ache tightened around her ribs as she watched him bound in iron, but she forced the feeling down, her face remaining cold and detached.

"Escort him out," the agent ordered.

Two burly officers took Jaziel by his upper arms, turning him toward the aisle.

Denita crawled forward, grabbing the lead agent's pant leg in desperation.

"Wait! I had nothing to do with this! I'm just his fiancée!"

The agent looked down at her with open disgust, stepping out of her grasp.

"We will be auditing your personal trust accounts by noon, Ms. Caldwell."

Julian stepped up beside Beatrix, touching her elbow lightly.

"It's done, Beatrix. We need to leave before the press blocks the courtyard."

Beatrix nodded, turning her back on the ruined altar and the weeping bride.

As the federal agents escorted Jaziel down the aisle, he suddenly stopped beside Beatrix, forcing his escorts to halt for a fraction of a second.

Jaziel leaned down, his lips brushing close to her ear.

"Welcome home, Beatrix," he murmured, his voice so low only she could hear the dark promise behind it.